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A  UTHOR: 


STEPHEN,  SIR  LESLIE 


TITLE: 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S 
APOLOGY,  AND  OTHER 


PLACE: 


NEW  YORK 


DATE: 


1903 


Master  Negative  # 


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BIBLIOGRAPHIC  MICROFORM  TARGET 


Original  Material  as  Filmed  -  Existing  Bibliographic  Record 


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Stephen,  Sir  Leslie,  18o2-1904. 

An   ac;pK)stic's   apoloj;;y,    and  other  essays,   by 
Leslie   Stephen,    IJ.;w   ^ork,    l\jtnajii,    IQOo. 

4   p.    1.,    oG7   p.      20vv-.      (2d  ed.) 

mm 

Pour  •••  chapters  are  republished  (v/ith 
alterations)  from  articles  v/hich  oripinally 
appeared  in  the  'Fortnightly  revic^, '  one  from 
tv;o  articles  in  the  'nineteenth  century,'  and 
one  from  an  article  in  the  'Ilorth  Amf;rican  re- 


VI  ev;. 


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Contents. — An  a^^nostic's   apolog^^.  —  'Tlie   scepti- 
cism of  believors.— Drenjas   and  realitie  s.~V;iiat 

(Continued  on  next  card) 


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Stephen,  Sir  Leslie,  1832-1904.  An  arnostic's 
fipoloQ'.   lOO;;.   (Card  2) 

is  nat  rialaim?— Hevman's  theory  of  belief.— 
Poisonous  opinions. --The  reli^^ion  of  all  sen- 
sible men. 


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AN   AGNOSTIC'S    APOLOGY 


;  AND    OTHER    ESSAYS 


6\:' 


SIE  LESLIE  STEPHEN,  K.C.B. 


SECOND     EDITION 


NEW   YOKE :    G.  P.  PUTNAM'S    SONS 
LONDON :  SMITH,  ELDER,  &  CO. 

1903 


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NOTE 

Four  of  the  following  chapters  are  republished  (with 
alterations)  from  articles  which  originally  appeared  in  the 
'  Fortnightly  Eeview,'  one  from  two  articles  in  the  *  Nine- 
teenth Century,'  and  one  from  an  article  in  the  'North 
American  Eeview.'  The  author  thanks  the  proprietors  of 
those  periodicals  for  permission  to  republish. 

Janimry  1903. 


CONTENTS 


I.    An  Agnostic's  Apology 
II.    The  Scepticism  of  Believers 


III.    Dreams  and  Kealities 


IV.    What  is  Materialism?  . 


V.    Newman's  Theory  of  Belief 


!'A(!E 


VI.    Toleration 


VII.    The  Keligion  of  all  Sensible  Men 


42 
86 
127 
168 
242 
325 


M 


1 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 

The  name  Agnostic,  originally  coined   by  Professor 
Huxley  about  1869,  has  gained  general   acceptance. 
It   is  sometimes   used   to   indicate  the  philosophical 
theory  which  Mr.   Herbert    Spencer,  as  he  tells  ns, 
developed  from  the  doctrine  of  Hamilton  and  Mansel. 
Upon  that  theory  I  express  no  opinion.     I  take  the 
word  in  a  vaguer  sense,  and  am  glad  to  believe  that 
its   use  indicates   an  advance   in    the  courtesies   of 
controversy.     The  old  theological  phrase  for  an  in- 
tellectual opponent  was  Atheist— a  name  which  still 
retains  a  certain  flavour  as  of  the  stake  in  this  world 
and  hell-fire  in  the  next,  and  which,  moreover,  im- 
plies an  inaccuracy  of  some  importance.     Dogmatic 
Atheism— the  doctrine  that  there  is  no  God,  whatever 
may  be  meant  by  God— is,  to  say  the  least,  a  rare 
phase  of  opinion.      The   word   Agnosticism,   on  the 
other  hand,  seems  to  imply  a  fairly  accurate  appre- 
ciation of  a  form  of  creed  already  common  and  daily 
spreading.  jJThe   Agnostic  is  one  who  asserts— what 
no  one  denies— that  there  are  limits  to  the  sphere  of 
human  intelligence.     He  asserts,  further,  what  many 


'') 


llliim" 


a  AN  AGNOSTIC'S   APOLOGY 

theologians  have  expressly  maintained,  that  those 
limits  are  such  as  to  exclude  at  least  what  Lewes 
called  *  metempirical '  knowledge.  But  he  goes  fur- 
ther, and  asserts,  in  opposition  to  theologians,  that 
theology  lies  within  this  forbidden  sphere.  This  last 
assertion  raises  the  important  issue;  and,  though 
I  have  no  pretension  to  invent  an  opposition  nick- 
name, I  may  venture,  for  the  purposes  of  this  article, 
to  describe  the  rival  school  as  Gnostics  J 

The  Gnostic  holds  that  our  reason  can,  in  some 
sense,  transcend  the  narrow  limits  of  experience.  He 
holds  that  we  can  attain  truths  not  caj^able  of  veri- 
fication, and  not  needing  verification,  by  actual 
experiment  or  observation.  He  holds,  further,  that 
a  knowledge  of  those  truths  is  essential  to  the  highest 
interests  of  mankind,  and  enables  us  in  some  sort  to 
solve  the  dark  riddle  of  the  universe.  A  complete 
solution,  as  everyone  admits,  is  beyond  our  power. 
But  some  answer  may  be  given  to  the  doubts  which 
harass  and  perplex  us  when  we  try  to  frame  any 
adequate  conception  of  the  vast  order  of  which  we 
form  an  insignificant  portion.  We  cannot  say  why 
this  or  that  arrangement  is  what  it  is ;  we  can  say, 
though  obscurely,  that  some  answer  exists,  and  would 
be  satisfactory,  if  we  could  only  find  it.  Overpowered, 
as  every  honest  and  serious  thinker  is  at  times  over- 
powered, by  the  sight  of  pain,  folly,  and  helplessness, 
by  the  jarring  discords  which  run  through  the  vast 
harmony  of  the  universe,  we  are  yet  enabled  to  hear 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


8 


( 


at  times  a  whisper  that  all  is  well,  to  trust  to  it  as 
coming  from  the  most  authentic  source,  and  to  know 
that  only  the  temporary  bars  of  sense  prevent  us 
from  recognising  with   certainty  that  the_  harmony 
beneath  the  discords  is  a  reality  and  not  a  dream. 
This  knowledge  is  embodied  in  the  central  dogma  of 
theology.     God  is  the  name  of  the  harmony;   and 
God  is   knowable.    Who  would  not    be  happy    in 
accepting  this  belief,  if  he  could  accept  it  honestly  ? 
Who  would  not  be   glad  if  he  could  say  with  con- 
fidence :  *  the  evil  is  transitory,  the  good  eternal :  our 
doubts  are  due  to  limitations  destined  to  be  abolished, 
and  the  world  is  really  an  embodiment  of  love  and 
wisdom,  however  dark  it  may  appear  to  our  faculties '  ? 
And  yet,  if  the  so-called  knowledge  be  illusory,  are 
we  not  bound  by  the  most  sacred  obligations    to 
recognise  the  facts  ?\  Our  brief  path  is  dark  enough  on 
any  hypothesis.     We  cannot  afford  to  turn  aside  after 
every  ignis  fatwus  without  asking  whether  it  leads  to 
sounder  footing  or  to  hopeless  quagmires.    Dreams 
may  be  pleasanter  for  the  moment  than   realities  ; 
but  happiness  must  be  won  by  adapting  our  lives  to 
the  realities.     And  who,  that  has  felt  the  burden  of 
existence,  and  suffered  under  well-meant  efforts  at 
consolation,  will  deny  that  such  consolations  are  the 
bitterest  of  mockeries  ?    Pain  is  not  an  evil ;  death 
is  not  a  separation ;   sickness  is  but  a  blessing  in 
disguise.    Have  the  gloomiest  speculations  of  avowed 
pessimists  ever  tortured   sufferers   like  those  kindly 

B  2 


4  AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 

platitudes?  Is  there  a  more  cutting  piece  of  satire 
in  the  language  than  the  reference  in  our  funeral 
service  to  the  *  sure  and  certain  hope  of  a  blessed 
resurrection  '  ?  To  dispel  genuine  hopes  might  be 
painful,  however  salutary.  To  suppress  these  spas- 
modic efforts  to  fly  in  the  face  of  facts  would  be 
some  comfort,  even  in  the  distress  which  they  are 
meant  to  alleviate. 

Besides  the  important  question  whether  the  Gnostic 
can  prove  his  dogmas,  there  is,  therefore,  the  further 
question  whether  the  dogmas,  if  granted,  have  any 
meaning.  Do  they  answer  our  doubts,  or  mock  us 
with  the  appearance  of  an  answer?  The  Gnostics 
rejoice  in  their  knowledge.  Have  they  anything  to 
tell  us  ?  They  rebuke  what  they  call  the  *  pride  of 
reason '  in  the  name  of  a  still  more  exalted  pride. 
The  scientific  reasoner  is  arrogant  because  he  sets 
limits  to  the  faculty  in  which  he  trusts,  and  denies 
the  existence  of  any  other  faculty.  They  are  humble 
because  they  dare  to  tread  in  the  regions  which  he 
declares  to  be  inaccessible.  But  without  bandying 
such  accusations,  or  asking  which  pride  is  the  greatest, 
the  Gnostics  are  at  least  bound  to  show  some  ostensible 
justification  for  their  complacency.  Have  they  dis- 
covered a  firm  resting-place  from  which  they  are 
entitled  to  look  down  in  compassion  or  contempt 
upon  those  who  hold  it  to  be  a  mere  edifice  of  moon- 
shine? If  they  have  diminished  by  a  scruple  the 
weight  of  one  passing  doubt,  we  should  be  grateful : 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY  5 

perhaps  we  should  be  converts.     If  not,  why  condemn 
Agnosticism  ? 

I  have  said   that  our   knowledge  is   in  any  case 
limited.     I  may  add  that,  on  any  showing,  there  is  a 
danger  in  failing  to  recognise  the  limits  of  possible 
knowledge.      The  word  Gnostic   has  some   awkward 
associations.     It  once  described  certain  heretics  who 
got  into  trouble  from  fancying  that  men  could  frame 
theories  of  the  Divine  mode  of  existence.     The  sects 
have   been  dead  for  many  centuries.     Their  funda- 
mental assumptions  can  hardly  be  quite  extinct.     Not 
long  ago,  at  least,  there  appeared   in  the  papers  a 
string  of  propositions  framed — so  we  were  assured — 
by  some  of  the  most   candid  and   most  learned   of 
living  theologians.      These   propositions   defined   by 
the  help  of  various  languages   the  precise  relations 
which  exist  between  the  persons  of  the  Trinity.     It 
is  an  odd,  though   far   from  an   unprecedented,  cir- 
cumstance that  the   unbeliever   cannot  quote  them 
for  fear  of  profanity.     If  they  were  transplanted  into 
the  pages  of  the  'Fortnightly  Eeview,'  it  would   be 
impossible   to   convince  anyone  that    the   intention 
was  not  to  mock  the  simple-minded  persons  who,  we 
must    suppose,   were    not    themselves    intentionally 
irreverent.     It  is  enough  to  say  that  they  defined  \ 
the  nature  of  God  Almighty  with  an  accuracy  from 
which  modest  naturahsts  would  shrink  in  describing 
the  genesis  of  a  black-beetle.     I  know  not  whether 
these  dogmas  were  put  forward  as  articles  of  faith, 


il 


6 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


as  pious  conjectures,  or  as  tentative  contributions  to 
a  sound  theory.  At  any  rate,  it  was  supposed  that 
they  were  interesting  to  beings  of  flesh  and  blood. 
If  so,  one  can  only  ask  in  wonder  whether  an  utter 
want  of  reverence  is  most  strongly  implied  in  this 
mode  of  dealing  with  sacred  mysteries ;  or  an  utter 
ignorance  of  the  existing  state  of  the  world  in  the 
assumption  that  the  question  which  really  divides 
mankind  is  the  double  procession  of  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
or  an  utter  incapacity  for  speculation  in  the  confusion 
of  these  dead  exuviae  of  long-past  modes  of  thought 
with  living  intellectual  tissue;  or  an  utter  want  of 
imagination,  or  of  even  a  rudimentary  sense  of 
humour,  in  the  hypothesis  that  the  promulgation 
of  such  dogmas  could  produce  anything  but  the 
laughter  of  sceptics  and  the  contempt  of  the  healthy 
human  intellect  ? 

The  sect  which  requires  to  be  encountered  in  these 
days  is  not  one  which  boggles  over  the  fiUoque,  but 
certain  successors  of  those  Ephesians  who  told  Paul 
that  they  did  not  even  know  *  whether  there  were  any 
Holy  Ghost.'  But  it  explains  some  modern  pheno- 
mena when  we  find  that  the  leaders  of  theology  hope 
to  reconcile  faith  and  reason,  and  to  show  that  the 
old  symbols  have  still  a  right  to  the  allegiance  of 
our  hearts  and  brains,  by  putting  forth  these  porten- 
tous propositions.  We  are  struggling  with  hard  facts, 
and  they  would  arm  us  with  the  forgotten  tools 
of  scholasticism.     We  wish  for  spiritual  food,  and  are 


I 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY  7 

to  be  put  off  with  these  ancient  mummeries  of  for- 
gotten dogma.  If  Agnosticism  is  the  frame  of  mind 
which  summarily  rejects  these  imbecilities,  and  would 
restrain  the  human  intellect  from  wasting  its  powers 
on  the  attempt  to  galvanise  into  sham  activity  this 
caput  mortuum  of  old  theology,  nobody  need  be  afraid 
of  the  name.  Argument  against  such  adversaries 
would  be  itself  a  foolish  waste  of  time.  Let  the 
dead  bury  their  dead,  and  Old  Catholics  decide 
whether  the  Holy  Ghost  proceeds  from  the  Father 
and  the  Son,  or  from  the  Father  alone.  Gentlemen, 
indeed,  who  still  read  the  Athanasian  Creed,  and 
profess  to  attach  some  meaning  to  its  statements, 
have  no  right  to  sneer  at  their  brethren  who  persist 
in  taking  things  seriously.  But  for  men  who  long 
for  facts  instead  of  phrases,  the  only  possible  course 
is  to  allow  such  vagaries  to  take  their  own  course  to 
the  limbo  to  which  they  are  naturally  destined,  simply 
noting,  by  the  way,  that  modern  Gnosticism  may  lead 
to  puerilities  which  one  blushes  even  to  notice. 

It  is  not  with  such  phenomena  that  we  have 
seriously  to  deal.  Nobody  maintains  that  the  unas- 
sisted human  intellect  can  discover  the  true  theory 
of  the  Trinity  ;  and  the  charge  of  Agnosticism  refers, 
of  course,  to  the  sphere  of  reason,  not  to  the  sphere  of 
revelation.  Yet  those  who  attack  the  doctrine  are 
chiefly  believers  in  revelation ;  and  as  such  they 
should  condescend  to  answer  one  important  question. 
Is  not  the  denunciation  of  reason  a  commonplace  with 


I 


8 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


theologians  ?    What  could  be  easier  than  to  form  a 
catena  of  the  most  philosophical  defenders  of  Chris- 
tianity who  have  exhausted  language  in  declaring  the 
impotence  of  the  imassisted  intellect?    Comte  has 
not  more  explicitly  enounced  the  incapacity  of  man 
to  deal  with   the   Absolute  and  the  Infinite  than  a 
whole  series  of  orthodox  writers.     Trust  your  reason, 
we  have  been  told  till  we  are  tired  of  the  phrase,  and 
you  will  become  Atheists  or  Agnostics.     We  take  you 
at   your   word  ;    we  become  Agnostics.     What   rigliC 
have  you  to  turn  round  and  rate  us  for  being  a  degree 
more  logical  than  yourselves  ?    Our  right,  you  reply, 
is  founded  upon  a  Divine  revelation  to  ourselves  or 
our  Church.     Let  us  grant  -it  is  a  very  liberal  con- 
cession—that the  right  may  conceivably  be  established ; 
but  still  you  are  at  one  with  us  in  philosophy.    You  say, 
as  we  say,  that  the  natural  man  can  know  nothing  of 
the  Divine  nature.     That  is  Agnosticism.     Our  funda- 
mental principle  is  not  only  granted,  but  asserted. 
By  what  logical  device  you  succeed  in  overleaping  the 
barriers  which  you  have  declared  to  be  insuperable  is 
another  question.     At  least  you  have  no  prima  facie 
ground  for  attackmg  our  assumption  that  the  limits 
of  the  human  intellect  are  what  you  declare  them  to 
be.     This  is  no  mere  verbal  retort.     Half,  or  more 
than  half,  of  our  adversaries  agree  formally  with  our 
leading  principle.     They   cannot   attack  us   without 
upsetting  the  very   ground   upon  which   the  ablest 
advocates  of  their  own  case  rely.     The  last  English 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY  9 

writer    who  professed    to   defend   Christianity   with 
I  weapons  drawn  from  wide  and  genuine  philosophical 

knowledge  was  Dean  Mansel.     The  whole  substance 
of  his  argument  was  simply  and  solely  the  assertion 
of  the  first  principles  of  Agnosticism.     Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer,  the  prophet  of  the  Unknowable,  the  foremost 
representative  of  Agnosticism,  professes  in  his  pro- 
gramme to  be  carrying  *  a  step  further  the  doctrine 
put  into  shape  by  Hamilton  and  Mansel.'     Nobody, 
I   suspect,   would   now  deny,   nobody  except    Dean 
Mansel  himself,  and  the  *  religious  '  newspapers,  ever 
denied  very  seriously,  that  the   *  further  step '  thus 
taken  was   the  logical   step.     Opponents   both   from 
within   and   without   the  Church,  Mr.  Maurice  and 
Mr.  Mill,  agreed  that  this  affiliation  was  legitimate. 
The  Old   Testament  represents   Jehovah  as  human, 
as  vindictive,  as  prescribing  immoralities  ;  therefore, 
Jehovah  was  not  the  true  God  ;  that  was  the  contention 
of  the  infidel.     We  know  nothing  whatever  about  the 
true  God  was  the  reply,  for  God  means  the  Absolute  and 
the  Infinite.     Any  special  act  may  come  from  God, 
for  it  may  be  a  moral  miracle;   any  attribute  ma}^ 
represent  the  character  of  God  to  man,  for  we  know 
nothing  whatever  of  His  real  attributes,  and  cannot 
even  conceive  Him  as  endowed  with  attributes.     The 
doctrine  of  the  Atonement  cannot  be  revolting,  be- 
cause it   cannot   have   any  meaning.     Mr.    Spencer 
hardly  goes  a  step  beyond  his  original,  except,  indeed, 
in  candour. 


f 


10 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


Most  believers  repudiate  Dean  Hansel's  arguments. 
They  were  an  anachronism.     They  were  fatal  to  the 
decaying  creed  of  pure  Theism,  and  powerless  against 
the  growing  creed  of  Agnosticism.     When  theology 
had  vital  power  enough  to  throw  out  fresh  branches, 
the  orthodox  could  venture  to  attack  the  Deist,  and 
the  Deist  could  assail  the  traditional  beliefs.     As  the 
impulse  grows  fainter,  it  is  seen  that  such  a  warfare 
is  suicidal.     The  old   rivals  must   make  an  alliance 
against  the  common  enemy.     The   theologian   must 
appeal  for  help  to  the  metaphysician  whom  he  reviled. 
Orthodoxy  used  to  call  Spinoza  an  Atheist ;  it  is  now 
glad  to  argue  that  even  Spinoza  is  a  witness  on  its 
own  side.     Yet  the  most  genuine  theology  still  avows 
its  hatred  of   reason  and   distrusts   sham   alliances. 
Newman  was  not,  like  Dean  Mansel,  a  profound  meta- 
physician, but  his  admirable  rhetoric  expressed  a  far 
finer  religious  instinct.     He  felt  more  keenly,  if  he 
did  not   reason  so  systematically;   and  the  force  of 
one  side  of  his  case  is  undeniable.     He  holds  that  the 
unassisted  reason  cannot  afford  a  sufficient  support 
for  a  belief  in   God.     He   declares,  as  innumerable 
writers  of  less  power  have  declared,  that  there  is  '  no 
medium,  in   true  philosophy,  between   Atheism  and 
Catholicity,   and  that    a   perfectly   consistent   mind, 
under   those   circumstances  in  which   it  finds   itself 
here  below,  must  embrace  either  the  one  or  the  other.' ' 
He  looks  in  vain  for  any  antagonist,  except  the  Catholic 

'  History  of  my  Religious  Opinions,  pp.  322-3. 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


11 


Church,  capable  of   baffling  and   withstanding  '  the 
fierce  energy  of  passion,  and  the  all-corroding,  all- 
dissolving  scepticism   of    the   intellect    in   religious 
matters.'  ^      Some   such   doctrine  is   in   fact   but  a 
natural  corollary  from  the   doctrine   of  human  cor- 
ruption held  by  all  genuine  theologians.     The  very 
basis  of  orthodox  theology  is  the  actual   separation 
of  the  creation  from  the  Creator.     In  the  *  Grammar  of 
Assent,'  Newman  tells  us  that  we  *  can  only  glean  from 
the  surface  of  the  world  some  faint  and  fragmentary 
views '  of  God.     *  I  see,'  he  proceeds,  *  only  a  choice  of 
alternatives  in  view  of  so  critical  a  fact ;  either  there 
is  no  Creator,  or  He  has  disowned  His  creatures.'- 
The  absence  of  God  from  His  own  world  is  the 
one  prominent   fact  which  startles  and  appals   him. 
Newman,  of  course,  does  not  see  or  does  not  admit 
the    obvious    consequence.      He    asserts   most   em- 
phatically that  he  believes  in  the  existence  of  God 
as  firmly  as  in  his  own  existence ;  and  he  finds  the 
ultimate  proof  of  this  doctrine — a  proof  not  to  be  put 
into  mood  and  figure— in  the  testimony  of  the  con- 
science.    But  he  apparently  admits  that  Atheism  is 
as   logical,  that  is,  as   free   from   self-contradiction, 
as  Catholicism.    He  certainly  declares  that  though 
the  ordinary  arguments  are  conclusive,  they  are  not 
in   practice    convincing.      Sound    reason   would,   of 
course,  establish  theology  ;  but  corrupt  man  does  not 
and  cannot  reason  soundly.     Newman,  however,  goes 

•  Ibid.  p.  379.  2  Grammar  of  Assent,  p.  392. 


12 


AN  AGNOSTICS  APOLOGY 


further  than  this.     His  Theism  can  only  be  supported 
by  help  of  his  Catholicity.     If,  therefore,  Newman  had 
never  heard  of  the  Catholic  Church— if,  that  is,  he 
were  in  the  position  of  the  great  majority  of  men  now 
living,  and  of  the  overwhelming  majority  of  the  race 
which  has  lived  since  its  first  appearance,  he  would 
be  driven  to  one  of  two  alternatives.     Either  he  would 
be  an  Atheist  or  he  would  be  an  Agnostic.     His  con- 
science might  say,  there  is  a  God  ;  his  observation 
would  say,  there  is   no   God.     Moreover,  the   voice 
of  conscience  has  been  very  differently  interpreted. 
Newman's  interpretation   has  no   force    for  anyone 
who,  Hke  most  men,  does  not  share   his   intuitions. 
To  such  persons,  therefore,  there  can  be,  on  Newman's 
own  showing,  no  refuge  except  the  admittedly  logical 
refuge  of  Atheism.     Even  if  they  shared  his  intui- 
tions,  they   would  be  necessarily  sceptics  until   the 
Catholic  Church  came  to  their  aid,  for  their  intuitions 
would  be  in  hopeless  conflict  with  their  experience. 
I  need  hardly  add  that,  to  some  minds,  the  proposed 
alliance  with  reason  of  a  Church  which  admits  that  its 
tenets  are  corroded  and  dissolved  wherever  free  reason 
is  allowed  to  play  upon  them,  is  rather  suspicious.     At 
any  rate,  Newman's  arguments  go  to  prove  that  man, 
as  guided  by  reason,  ought  to  be  an  Agnostic,  and 
that,  at  the  present  moment,  Agnosticism  is  the  only 
reasonable  faith  for  at  least  three-quarters  of  the  race. 
All,  then,  who  think  that  men  should  not  be  dog- 
matic about  matters  beyond  the  sphere  of  reason  or 


fl 

I'  if  1 


i 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S   APOLOGY 


13 


even  conceivability,  who  hold  that  reason,  however 
weak,  is  our  sole  guide,  or  who  find  that  their  con- 
science does  not  testify  to  the  divinity  of  the  Catholic 
God,  but  declares  the  moral  doctrines  of  Catholicity 
to  be  demonstrably  erroneous,  are  entitled  to  claim 
such  orthodox  writers  as  sharing  their  fundamental 
principles,  though  refusing  to  draw  the  legitimate 
inferences.  The  authority  of  Dean  Mansel  and 
Newman  may  of  course  be  repudiated.  In  one  sense, 
however,  they  are  simply  stating  an  undeniable  fact. 
The  race  collectively  is  agnostic,  whatever  may  be  the 
case  with  individuals.  Newton  might  be  certain  of  the 
truth  of  his  doctrines,  whilst  other  thinkers  were  still 
convinced  of  their  falsity.  It  could  not  be  said 
that  the  doctrines  were  certainly  true,  so  long  as  they 
were  doubted  in  good  faith  by  competent  reasoners. 
Newman  may  be  as  much  convinced  of  the  truth  of  his 
theology  as  Professor  Huxley  of  its  error.  But  speak- 
ing of  the  race,  and  not  of  the  individual,  there  is  no 
plainer  fact  in  history  than  the  fact  that  hitherto  no 
knowledge  has  been  attained.  There  is  not  a  single 
proof  of  natural  theology  of  which  the  negative  has 
not  been  maintained  as  vigorously  as  the  affirmative. 
You  tell  us  to  be  ashamed  of  professing  ignorance. 
Where  is  the  shame  of  ignorance  in  matters  still  in- 
volved in  endless  and  hopeless  controversy  ?  Is  it  not 
rather  a  duty  ?  Why  should  a  lad  who  has  just  run 
the  gauntlet  of  examinations  and  escaped  to  a  country 
parsonage    be  dogmatic,  when   his   dogmas  are  de- 


14 


AN  AGNOSTICS  APOLOGY 


nounced  as  erroneous  by  half  the  philosophers  of  the 
world  ?    What  theory  of  the  universe  am  I  to  accept 
as  demonstrably  established  ?    At  the  very  earliest 
dawn  of  philosophy  men  were  divided  by  earlier  forms 
of  the  same  problems  which  divide  them  now.     Shall 
I  be  a  Platonist  or  an  Aristotelian  ?     Shall  I  admit  or 
deny  the  existence  of  innate  ideas  ?     Shall  I  believe 
in  the  possibility  or  in  the  impossibility  of  transcend- 
ing experience?      Go  to  the  mediaeval  philosophy, 
says  one  controversialist.     To  which  mediaeval  philo- 
sophy, pray  ?     Shall  I  be  a  nominalist  or  a  realist  ? 
And  why  should  I  believe  you  rather  than  the  great 
thinkers  of  the  seventeenth  century,  who  agreed  with 
one  accord  that  the  first  condition   of  intellectual 
progress   was  the    destruction  of  that  philosophy? 
There  would  be  no  difficulty  if  it  were  a  question  of 
physical  science.      I  might   believe   in   Galileo  and 
Newton   and   their   successors   down  to   Adams  and 
Leverrier   without  hesitation,   because  they  all  sub- 
stantially agree.     But   when  men  deal  with  the  old 
problems  there  are  still  the  old  doubts.     Shall  I  be- 
lieve in  Hobbes  or  in  Descartes  ?    Can  I  stop  where 
Descartes  stopped,  or  must  I  go  on  to  Spinoza  ?    Or 
shall  I  follow  Locke's  guidance,  and  end  with  Hume's 
scepticism  ?     Or  listen  to  Kant,  and,  if  so,  shall  I  de- 
cide that  he  is  right  in  destroying  theology,  or  in  recon- 
structing it,  or  in  both  performances  ?    Does  Hegel 
hold  the  key  of  the  secret,  or  is  he  a  mere  spinner  of 
jargon  ?    May  not  Feuerbach  or  Schopenhauer  re- 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


15 


present  the  true  development  of  metaphysical  inquiry  ? 
Shall  I  put  faith  in  Hamilton  and  Mansel,  and,  if 
so,  shall  I  read  their  conclusions  by  the  help  of 
Mr.  Spencer,  or  shall  I  believe  in  Mill  or  in  Green  ? 
State  any  one  proposition  in  which  all  philosophers 
agree,  and  I  will  admit  it  to  be  true ;  or  any  cue 
which  has  a  manifest  balance  of  authority,  and  I  will 
agree  that  it  is  probable.  But  so  long  as  every  philo- 
sopher flatly  contradicts  the  first  principles  of  his  pre- 
decessors, why  affect  certainty  ?  The  only  agreement 
I  can  discover  is,  that  there  is  no  philosopher  of  whom 
his  opponents  have  not  said  that  his  opinions  lead 
logically  either  to  Pantheism  or  to  Atheism. 

When  all  the  witnesses  thus  contradict  each  other, 
the  prima  facie  result  is  pure  scepticism.  There  is  no 
certainty.  Who  am  I,  if  I  were  the  ablest  of  modern 
thinkers,  to  say  summarily  that  all  the  great  men  who 
differed  from  me  are  wrong,  and  so  wrong  that  their 
difference  should  not  even  raise  a  doubt  in  my  mind  ? 
From  such  scepticism  there  is  indeed  one,  and,  so  far 
as  I  can  see,  but  one,  escape.  The  very  hopelessness 
of  the  controversy  shows  that  the  reasoners  have  been 
transcending  the  limits  of  reason.  They  have  reached 
a  point  where,  as  at  the  pole,  the  compass  points  in- 
differently to  every  quarter.  Thus  there  is  a  chance 
that  I  may  retain  what  is  valuable  in  the  chaos  of 
speculation,  and  reject  what  is  bewildering  by  confining 
the  mind  to  its  proper  limits.  But  has  any  limit  ever 
been  suggested,  except  a  limit  which  comes  in  sub- 


■•--^J 


-  '        iL-.  -m" tm\  itm  ■  r-yrf<. 


"Ml* 


16 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


stance  to  an  exclusion  of  all  ontology  ?  In  short,  if 
I  would  avoid  utter  scepticism,  must  I  not  be  an 
Agnostic  ? 

Let  us  suppose,  however,  that  this  difficulty  can 
be  evaded.  Suppose  that,  after  calling  witnesses  from 
all  schools  and  all  ages,  I  can  find  ground  for  ex- 
cluding all  the  witnesses  who  make  against  me.  Let 
me  say,  for  example,  that  the  whole  school  which  re- 
fuses to  transcend  experience  errs  from  the  wickedness 
of  its  heart  and  the  consequent  dulness  of  its  intellect. 
Some  people  seem  to  think  that  a  plausible  and  happy 
suggestion.  Let  the  theologian  have  his  necessary 
laws  of  thought,  which  enable  him  to  evolve  truth 
beyond  all  need  of  verification  from  experience. 
Where  will  the  process  end  ?  The  question  answers 
itself.  The  path  has  been  trodden  again  and  again, 
till  it  is  as  familiar  as  the  first  rule  of  arithmetic. 
Admit  that  the  mind  can  reason  about  the  Absolute 
and  the  Infinite,  and  you  will  get  to  the  position  of 
Spinoza,  or  to  a  position  substantially  equivalent.  In 
fact,  the  chain  of  reasoning  is  substantially  too  short 
and  simple  to  be  for  a  moment  doubtful.  Theology, 
if  logical,  leads  straight  to  Pantheism.  The  Infinite 
God  is  everything.  All  things  are  bound  together  as 
cause  and  effect.  God,  the  first  cause,  is  the  cause 
of  all  effects  down  to  the  most  remote.  In  one 
form  or  other,  that  is  the  conclusion  to  which  all 
theology  approximates  as  it  is  pushed  to  its  legitimate 
result. 


-  «■  ^r^mzr  -r  ^:;;t; 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


17 


Here,  then,  we  have  an  apparent  triumph  over 
Agnosticism.     But  nobody  can  accept  Spinoza  with- 
out rejecting  all  the  doctrines  for  which  the  Gnostics 
really  contend.     In  the  first  place,  revelation  and  the 
God  of  revelation  disappear.     The  argument  accord- 
ing to  Spinoza  against  supernaturalism  differs  from 
the   argument    according  to   Hume   in   being  more 
peremptory.     Hume  only  denies  that  a  past  miracle 
can  be  proved  by  evidence :    Spinoza  denies  that  it 
could  ever  have  happened.    As  a  fact,  miracles  and  a 
local   revelation   were  first  assailed  by  Deists  more 
effectually  than  by  sceptics.     The  old  Theology  was 
seen  to  be  unworthy  of  the  God  of  nature,  before  it 
was  said  that  nature  could  not  be  regarded  through 
the    theological    representation.     And,    in   the  next 
place,  the  orthodox  assault  upon  the  value  of  Pantheism 
is   irresistible.     Pantheism   can  give  no  ground   for 
morality,  for  nature  is  as  much  the  cause  of  vice  as 
the  cause  of  virtue ;  it  can  give  no  ground  for  an 
optimist  view  of  the  universe,  for  nature  causes  evil 
as  much  as  it  causes  good.     We  no  longer  doubt,  it  is 
true,  whether  there  be  a  God,  for  our  God  means  all 
reality ;  but  every  doubt  which  we  entertained  about 
the  universe  is  transferred  to  the  God  upon  whom  the 
universe  is  moulded.     The  attempt  to  transfer  to  pui;e 
being  or  to  the  abstraction  Nature  the  feelings  with 
which  we  are  taught  to  regard  a  person  of  transcendent 
wisdom  and   benevolence   is,   as   theologians  assert, 
hopeless.     To  deny  the  existence  of  God  is  in  this 


18 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


sense  the  same  as  to  deny  the  existence  of  no-God. 
We  keep  the  old  word  ;  we  have  altered  the  whole  of 
its  contents.  A  Pantheist  is,  as  a  rule,  one  who  looks 
upon  the  universe  through  his  feelings  instead  of  his 
reason,  and  who  regards  it  with  love  because  his 
habitual  frame  of  mind  is  amiable.  But  he  has  no 
logical  argument  as  against  the  Pessimist,  who  regards 
it  with  dread  unqualified  by  love,  or  the  Agnostic, 
who  finds  it  impossible  to  regard  it  with  any  but  a 
colourless  emotion. 

The  Gnostic,  then,  gains  nothing  by  admitting  the 
claims  of  a  faculty  which  at  once  overturns  his  con- 
clusions. His  second  step  is  invariably  to  half-retract 
his  first.  We  are  bound  by  a  necessary  law  of 
thought,  he  tells  us,  to  believe  in  universal  causation. 
Very  well,  then,  let  us  be  Pantheists.  No,  he  says ; 
another  necessary  law  of  thought  tells  us  that  causa- 
tion is  not  universal.  We  know  that  the  will  is  free, 
or,  in  other  words,  that  the  class  of  phenomena  most 
important  to  us  is  not  caused.  This  is  the  position 
of  the  ordinary  Deist ;  and  it  is  of  vital  importance  to 
him,  for  otherwise  the  connection  between  Deism  and 
morality  is,  on  his  own  ground,  untenable.  The 
ablest  and  most  logical  thinkers  have  declared  that 
the  free-will  doctrine  involves  a  fallacy,  and  have  un- 
ravelled the  fallacy  to  their  own  satisfaction.  Whether 
right  or  wrong,  they  have  at  least  this  advantage,  that, 
on  their  showing,  reason  is  on  this  point  consistent 
with  itself.     The  advocate  of  free-will,  on  the  other 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY  19 

hand,  declares  that  an  insoluble  antinomy  occurs  at 
the  very  threshold  of  his  speculations.     An  uncaused 
phenomenon  is  unthinkable ;  yet  consciousness  testifies 
that  our  actions,  so  far  as  they  are  voluntary,  are  un- 
caused.    In  face  of  such  a   contradiction,  the  only 
rational  state  of  mind  is  scepticism.     A  mind  balanced 
between  two  necessary  and  contradictory  thoughts  must 
be  m  a  hopeless  state  of  doubt.     The  Gnostic,  there- 
fore, starts  by  proclaiming  that  we  must  all  be  Agno- 
sties  m  regard  to  a  matter  of  primary  philosophical 
importance.     If  by  free-will  he  means  anything  else 
than  a  denial  of  causation,  his  statement  is  irrelevant 
For,  It  must  be  noticed,  this  is  not  one  of   the 
refined  speculative  problems  which  may  be  neglected 
m   our   ordinary  reasoning.     The    ancient    puzzles 
about  the  one  and  the  many,  or  the  infinite  and  the 
finite,  may  or  may  not  be   insoluble.     They  do  not 
affect  our  practical  knowledge.     Familiar  difficulties 
have  been  raised  as  to  our  conceptions  of  motion  • 
the  hare  and   tortoise  problem   may  be  revived   by 
modern  metaphysicians  ;  but  the  mathematician  may 
contmue  to  calculate  the  movements  of  the  planets  and 
never  doubt  whether  the  quicker  body  will,  in  fact,  over- 
take the  slower.     The  free-will  problem  cannot  be  thus 
shirked.     We  all  admit  that  a   competent  reasoner 
can  foretell  the  motions  of  the  moon;  and  we  admit 
It  because  we  know  that  there  is  no  element  of  ob- 
jective chance  in  the  problem.     But  the  determinist 
asserts,  whilst  the  libertarian  denies,  that  it  would  be 

c  2 


20 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


21 


possible  for  an  adequate  intelligence  to  foretell  the 
actions  of  a  man  or  a  race.  There  is  or  is  not  an 
element  of  objective  chance  in  the  question  ;  and 
whether  there  is  or  is  not  must  be  decided  by  reason 
and  observation,  independently  of  those  puzzles  about 
the  infinite  and  the  finite,  which  affect  equally  the 
man  and  the  planet.  The  anti-determinist  asserts 
the  existence  of  chance  so  positively,  that  he  doubts 
whether  God  Himself  can  foretell  the  future  of 
humanity;  or,  at  least,  he  is  unable  to  reconcile 
Divine  prescience  with  his  favourite  doctrine. 

In  most  practical  questions,  indeed,  the  difference 
is  of  little  importance.  The  believer  in  free-will 
admits  that  we  can  make  an  approximate  guess ;  the 
determinist  admits  that  our  faculty  of  calculation  is 
limited.  But  when  we  turn  to  the  problems  with 
which  the  Gnostic  desires  to  deal,  the  problem  is  of 
primary  importance.  Free-will  is  made  responsible 
for  all  the  moral  evil  in  the  world.  God  made  man 
perfect,  but  He  gave  His  creature  free  will.  The  exer- 
cise of  that  free-will  has  converted  the  world  into  a 
scene  in  which  the  most  striking  fact,  as  Newman 
tells  us,  is  the  absence  of  the  Creator.  It  follows, 
then,  that  all  this  evil,  the  sight  of  which  leads  some 
of  us  to  Atheism,  some  to  blank  despair,  and  some  to 
epicurean  indifference,  and  the  horror  of  which  is  at 
the  root  of  every  vigorous  religious  creed,  results  from 
accident.  If  even  God  could  have  foretold  it.  He  fore- 
told it  in  virtue  of  faculties  inconceivable  to  finite 


minds;  and  no  man,  however  exalted  his  faculties, 
could  by  any  possibility  have  foretold  it.     Here,  then, 
is  Agnosticism  in  the  highest  degree.     An  inexorable 
necessity  of  thought  makes  it  absolutely  impossible 
for  us  to  say  whether   this  world   is  the  ante-room 
to   heaven   or   hell.     We   do   not   know,  nay,   it   is 
intrinsically  impossible  for  us  to  know,  whether  the 
universe  is  to  be  a  source  of  endless   felicity  or  a 
ghastly  and  everlasting  torture-house.  '  The  Gnostic 
invites   us   to  rejoice   because  the  existence  of  an 
infinitely  good  and  wise  Creator  is  a  guarantee  for  our 
happiness.     He  adds,  in  the  same  breath,  that  this 
good  and  wise  Being  has  left  it  to  chance  whether  His 
creatures  shall  all,  or  in  any  proportion,  go  straight 
to  the  devil.    He  reviles  the  Calvinist,  who  dares  to 
think  that  God  has  settled  the  point  by  His  arbitrary 
will.     Is  an  arbitrary  decision  better  or  worse  than 
a  trusting  to  chance?    We  know  that  there  is  a 
great  First  Cause ;  but  we  add  that  there  are  at  this 
moment  in  the  world  some  twelve  hundred  million 
little  first  causes  which  may  damn  or  save  themselves 
as  they  please.  • 

The  free-will  hypothesis  is  the  device  by  which 
theologians  try  to  relieve  God  of  the  responsibility 
for  the  sufferings  of  His  creation.  It  is  required  for 
another  purpose.  It  enables  the  Creator  to  be  also 
the  judge.  Man  must  be  partly  independent  of  God, 
or  God  would  be  at  once  pulling  the  wires  and 
punishing  the  puppets.     So  far  the  argument  is  un- 


1 


22 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


impeachable;  but  the  device  justifies  God  at  the 
expense  of  making  the  universe  a  moral  chaos. 
Grant  the  existence  of  this  arbitrary  force  called  free- 
will, and  we  shall  be  forced  to  admit  that,  if  justice 
is  to  be  found  anywhere,  it  is  at  least  not  to  be  found 
in  this  strange  anarchy,  where  chance  and  fate  are 
struggling  for  the  mastery. 

The  fundamental  proposition  of  the  anti-determinist, 
that  which  contains  the  whole  pith  and  substance  of 
his  teaching,  is  this  :  that  a  determined  action  cannot 
be  meritorious.     Desert  can  only  accrue  in  respect  of 
actions  which  are  self-caused,  or  in  so  far  as  they  are 
self-caused  ;  and  self-caused  is  merely  a  periphrasis  for 
uncaused.     Now  no  one  dares  to  say  that  our  conduct 
is  entirely  self-caused.     The  assumption  is  implied  in 
every  act  of  our  lives   and   every  speculation  about 
history  that  men's  actions  are  determined,  exclusively 
or  to  a  great  extent,  by  their   character  and   their 
circumstances.     Only  so  far  as  that  doctrine  is  true 
can  human  nature  be  the  subject  of  any  reasoning 
whatever  ;  for  reason  is  but  the  reflection  of  external 
regularity,  and  vanishes  with  the  admission  of  chance. 
Our  conduct,  then,  is  the  resultant  of  the  two  forces, 
which  we  may  call  fate  and  free-will.     Fate  is  but 
the  name  for  the  will  of  God.     He  is  responsible  for 
placing  us  with  a  certain  character  in  a  certain  posi- 
tion ;  He  cannot  justly  punish  us  for  the  consequences  ; 
we  are  responsible  to  Him  for  the  effects  of  our  free- 
will alone,  if  free-will  exists.     That  is  the  very  con- 


AN   AGNOSTIC'S   APOLOGY 


23 


tention   of  the  anti-determinist;   let  us   look   for  a 
moment  at  the  consequences. 

The  ancient  difficulty  which  has  perplexed  men 
since  the  days  of  Job  is  this  :  Why  are  happiness  and 
misery  arbitrarily  distributed  ?  Why  do  the  good  so 
often  suffer,  and  the  evil  so  often  flourish  ?  The  diffi- 
culty, says  the  determinist,  arises  entirely  from  ap- 
.  plying  the  conception  of  justice  where  it  is  manifestly 
out  of  place.  The  advocate  of  free-will  refuses  this 
escape,  and  is  perplexed  by  a  further  difficulty.  Why 
are  virtue  and  vice  arbitrarily  distributed  ?  Of  all 
the  puzzles  of  this  dark  world,  or  of  all  forms  of  the 
one  great  puzzle,  the  most  appalling  is  that  which 
meets  us  at  the  corner  of  every  street.  Look  at  the 
children  growing  up  amidst  moral  poison  ;  see  the 
brothel  and  the  public-house  turning  out  harlots  and 
drunkards  by  the  thousand ;  at  the  brutalised  elders 
preaching  cruelty  and  shamelessness  by  example  ;  and 
deny,  if  you  can,  that  lust  and  brutality  are  generated 
as  certainly  as  scrofula  and  typhus.  Nobody  dares 
to  deny  it.  All  philanthropists  admit  it ;  and  every 
hope  of  improvement  is  based  on  the  assumption  that 
the  moral  character  is  determined  by  its  surroundings. 
What  does  the  theological  advocate  of  free-will  say  to 
reconcile  such  a  spectacle  with  our  moral  conceptions  ? 
Will  God  damn  all  these  wretches  for  faults  due  to 
causes  as  much  beyond  their  power  as  the  shape  of 
their  limbs  or  as  the  orbits  of  the  planets  ?  Or  will 
He  make  some  allowance,   and   decline   to  ask  for 


24 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


grapes  from  thistles,  and  exact  purity  of  life  from 
beings  born  in  corruption,  breathing  corruption,  and 
trained  in  corruption  ?     Let  us  try  each  alternative. 

To  Job's  difficulty  it  has  been  replied  that,  though 
virtue  is  not  always  rewarded  and  vice  punished,  yet 
virtue  as  such  is  rewarded,  and  vice  as  such  is  punished. 
If  that  be  true,  God,  on  the  free-will  hypothesis,  must 
be  unjust.     Virtue  and  vice,  as  the  facts  irresistibly 
prove,  are  caused  by  fate  or  by  God's  will  as  well  as 
by  free-will  -that  is,  our  own  will.     To  punish  a  man 
brought  up  in  a  London  slum  by  the  rule  appHcable 
to  a  man  brought  up  at  the  feet  of  Christ  is  manifestly 
the  height  of  injustice.     Nay,  for  anything  we  can  tell 
—for    we   know   nothing   of    the    circumstances    of 
their  birth  and  education— the  effort  which  Judas  Is- 
cariot  exerted  in  restoring  the  price  of  blood  may  have 
required  a  greater  force  of  free-will  than  would  have 
saved  Peter  from  denying  his  Master.     Moll  Flanders 
may  put   forth   more    power    to    keep    out    of    the 
lowest  depths  of  vice  than  a  girl  brought  up  in  a  con- 
vent to  kill  herself  by  ascetic  austerities.     If,  in  short, 
reward  is  proportioned  to   virtue,  it   cannot  be  pro- 
portioned to  merit,  for  merit,  by  the  hypothesis,  is 
proportioned   to  the   free-will,  which  is  only   one  of 
the  factors  of  virtue.     The  apparent  injustice  may,  of 
course,  be  remedied  by  some  unknowable  compensa- 
tion ;  but  for  all  that  appears,  it  is  the  height  of  in- 
justice to   reward   equally  equal   attainments   under 
entirely  different   conditions.     In    other   words,   the 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


25 


theologian  has  raised  a  difficulty  from  which  he  can 
only  escape  by  the  help  of  Agnosticism.  Justice  is 
not  to  be  found  in  the  visible  arrangements  of  the 
universe. 

Let  us,  then,  take  the  other  alternative.  Assume 
that  rewards  are  proportioned,  not  to  virtue,  but  to 
merit.  God  will  judge  us  by  what  we  have  done  for 
ourselves,  not  by  the  tendencies  which  He  has  im- 
pressed upon  us.  The  difficulty  is  disguised,  for  it  is 
not  diminished,  and  morality  is  degraded.  A  man 
should  be  valued,  say  all  the  deepest  moralists,  by  his 
nature,  not  by  his  external  acts  ;  by  what  he  is,  not 
by  how  he  came  to  be  what  he  is.  Virtue  is  heaven, 
and  vice  is  hell.  Divine  rewards  and  punishments  are 
not  arbitrarily  annexed,  but  represent  the  natural 
state  of  a  being  brought  into  harmony  with  the 
supreme  law,  or  in  hopeless  conflict  with  it.  We 
need  a  change  of  nature,  not  a  series  of  acts  uncon- 
nected with  our  nature.  Virtue  is  a  reality  precisely 
in  so  far  as  it  is  a  part  of  nature,  not  of  accident ;  of 
our  fate,  not  of  our  free-will.  The  assertion  in  some 
shape  of  these  truths  has  been  at  the  bottom  of  all 
great  moral  and  religious  reforms.  The  attempt  to 
patch  up  some  compromise  between  this  and  the  op- 
posite theory  has  generated  those  endless  contro- 
versies about  grace  and  free-will  on  which  no  Chris- 
tian Church  has  ever  been  able  to  make  up  its  mind, 
and  which  warn  us  that  we  are  once  more  plunging 
into  Agnosticism.     In  order  to  make  the  Creator  the 


26 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


judge,  you  assume  that  part  of  man's  actions  are 
his  own.  Only  on  that  showing  can  he  have  merit  as 
against  his  Maker.  Admitting  this,  and  only  if  we 
admit  this,  we  get  a  footing  for  the  debtor  and 
creditor  theories  of  morality— for  the  doctrine  that 
man  runs  up  a  score  with  Heaven  in  respect  of  that 
part  of  his  conduct  which  is  uncaused.  Thus  we 
have  a  ground  for  the  various  theories  of  merit  by 
which  priests  have  thriven  and  Churches  been  cor- 
rupted ;  but  it  is  at  the  cost  of  splitting  human  nature 
in  two,  and  making  happiness  depend  upon  those  acts 
which  are  not  really  part  of  our  true  selves. 

It  is  not,  however,  my  purpose  to  show  the  im- 
morality or  the  unreasonableness  of  the  doctrine.  I 
shall  only  remarh  that  it  is  essentially  agnostic. 
Only  in  so  far  as  phenomena  embody  fixed  *  laws ' 
can  we  have  any  ground  for  inference  in  this  world, 
and,  a  fortiori,  from  this  world  to  the  next.  If  happi- 
ness is  the  natural  consequence  of  virtue,  we  may 
plausibly  argue  that  the  virtuous  will  be  happy  here- 
after. If  heaven  be  a  bonus  arbitrarily  bestowed 
upon  the  exercise  of  an  inscrutable  power,  all  analogies 
break  down.  The  merit  of  an  action  as  between  men 
depends  upon  the  motives.  The  actions  for  which 
God  rewards  and  punishes  are  the  actions  or  those 
parts  of  actions  which  are  independent  of  motive. 
Pmiishment  amongst  men  is  regulated  by  some  con- 
siderations of  its  utility  to  the  criminal  or  his  fellows. 
No  conceivable  measure  of  Divine  punishment  can 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


27 


even  be  suggested  when  once  we  distinguish  between 
divine  and  natural ;  and  the  very  essence  of  the  theory 
is  that  such  a  distinction  exists.  For  whatever  may 
be  true  of  the  next  world,  we  begin  by  assuming  that 
new  principles  are  to  be  called  into  play  hereafter. 
The  new  world  is  summoned  into  being  to  redress  the 
balance  of  the  old.  The  fate  which  here  too  often 
makes  the  good  miserable  and  the  bad  happy,  which 
still  more  strangely  fetters  our  wills  and  forces  the 
strong  will  into  wickedness  and  strengthens  the  weak 
will  to  goodness,  will  then  be  suspended.  (^The  motive 
which  persuades  us  to  believe  in  the  good  arrange- 
ment hereafter  is  precisely  the  badness  of  this.  Such 
a  motive  to  believe  cannot  itself  be  a  reason  for  be- 
lief. That  would  be  to  believe  because  belief  was 
unreasonable.^  This  world,  once  more,  is  a  chaos,  in 
which  the  most  conspicuous  fact  is  the  absence 
of  the  Creator.  Nay,  it  is  so  chaotic  that,  accord- 
ing to  theologians,  infinite  rewards  and  penalties 
are  required  to  square  the  account  and  redress  the 
injustice  here  accumulated.  What  is  this,  so  far  as 
the  natural  reason  is  concerned,  but  the  very  super- 
lative of  Agnosticism  ?  The  appeal  to  experience  can 
lead  to  nothing,  for  our  very  object  is  to  contradict 
experience.  We  appeal  to  facts  to  show  that  facts  are 
illusory.  The  appeal  to  a  priori  reason  is  not  more 
hopeful,  for  you  begin  by  showing  that  reason  on 
these  matters  is  self-contradictory,  and  you  insist 
that  human  nature  is  radically  irregular,  and  there- 


is 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


fore  beyond  the  sphere  of  reason.     If  you  could  suc- 
ceed in  deducing  any  theory  by  reason,  reason  would, 
on  your  showing,  be  at  hopeless  issue  with  experience. 
There  are   two    questions,   in   short,   about   the 
universe  which   must  be  answered   to  escape  from 
Agnosticism.     The  great  fact  which  puzzles  the  mind 
is  the  vast  amount  of  evil.     It  may  be  answered  that 
evil  is  an  illusion,  because  God  is  benevolent ;  or  it 
may  be  answered  that  evil  is  deserved,  because  God 
is  just.     In  one  case  the  doubt  is  removed  by  denying 
the  existence  of  the  difficulty,  in  the  other  it  is  made 
tolerable   by   satisfying  our   consciences.     We   have 
seen  what  natural  reason  can  do  towards  justifying 
these  answers.     To  escape  from  Agnosticism  we  be- 
come Pantheists  ;  then  the  divine  reality  must  be  the 
counterpart  of  phenomenal  nature,  and  all  the  diffi- 
culties  recur.      We   escape  from   Pantheism  by  the 
illogical  device  of  free-will.     Then  God  is  indeed  good 
and  wise,  but  God  is  no  longer  omnipotent.     By  His 
side  we  erect  a  fetish  called  free-will,  which  is  potent 
enough  to  defeat  all   God's   good  purposes,  and  to 
make  His  absence  from  His  own  universe  the  most 
conspicuous  fact  given  by  observation ;  and  which,  at 
the   same   time,  is   by  its   own   nature  intrinsically 
arbitrary  in  its  action.    Your  Gnosticism  tells  us  that 
an  almighty  benevolence  is  watching  over  everything, 
and  bringing  good   out  of  all   evil.     Whence,  then, 
comes  the  evil  ?    By  free-will ;  that  is,  by  chance !     It 
is  an  exception,  an  exception  which  covers,  say,  half 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


29 


the  phenomena,  and  includes  all  that  puzzle  us.  Say 
boldly  at  once  no  explanation  can  be  given,  and  then 
proceed  to  denounce  Agnosticism.  If,  again,  we  take 
the  moral  problem,  the  Pantheist  view  shows  desert 
as  before  God  to  be  a  contradiction  in  terms.  We 
are  what  He  has  made  us  ;  nay,  we  are  but  manifesta- 
tions of  Himself — how  can  He  complain?  Escape 
from  the  dilemma  by  making  us  independent  of  God, 
and  God,  so  far  as  the  observed  universe  can  tell  us, 
becomes  systematically  unjust.  He  rewards  the  good 
and  the  bad,  and  gives  equal  reward  to  the  free  agent 
and  the  slave  of  fate.  Where  are  we  to  turn  for  a 
solution  ? 

Let  us  turn  to  revelation  ;  that  is  the  most  obvious 
reply.  By  all  means,  though  this  is  to  admit  that 
natural  reason  cannot  help  us  ;  or,  in  other  words,  it 
directly  produces  more  Agnosticism,  though  indirectly 
it  makes  an  opening  for  revelation.  There  is,  indeed, 
a  difficulty  here.  Pure  theism,  as  we  have  observed, 
is  in  reality  as  vitally  opposed  to  historical  revelation 
as  simple  scepticism.  The  word  God  is  used  by  the 
metaphysician  and  the  savage.  It  may  mean  any- 
thing, from  *  pure  Being  '  down  to  the  most  degraded 
fetish.  The  *  universal  consent '  is  a  consent  to  use 
the  same  phrase  for  antagonistic  conceptions— for 
order  and  chaos,  for  absolute  unity  or  utter  hetero- 
geneity, for  a  universe  governed  by  a  human  will,  or 
by  a  will  of  which  man  cannot  form  the  slightest 
conception.     This  is,  of  course,  a  difficulty  which  runs 


30 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


I 


off  the  orthodox  disputant  like  water  from  a  duck's 
back.     He  appeals  to  his  conscience,   and   his   con- 
science tells  him  just  what  he  wants.     It  reveals  a 
Being  just  at  that  point  in  the  scale  between  the  two 
extremes  which   is   convenient  for   his  purposes.     I 
open,   for   example,   a  harmless  little  treatise  by   a 
divine  who  need  not  be  named.     He  knows  intuitively, 
80  he  says,  that  there  is  a  God,  who  is  benevolent  and 
wise,  and  endowed  with  personahty,  that  is  to  say, 
conceived  anthropomorphically  enough  to  be  capable 
of  acting  upon  the  universe,  and  yet  so  far  different 
from  man  as  to  be  able  to  throw  a  decent  veil  of 
mystery  over  His  more  questionable  actions.     Well,  I 
reply,  my  intuition  tells  me  of  no  such  Being.     Then, 
says  the  divine,  I  can't  prove  my  statements,  but  you 
would   recognise   their   truth   if  your   heart  or  your 
intellect  were  not  corrupted  :  that  is,  you  must  be  a 
knave  or  a  fool.     This  is  a  kind  of  argument  to  which 
one  is  perfectly  accustomed  in  theology.     I  am  right, 
and  you  are  wrong ;  and  I  am  right  because   I  \m 
good  and  wise.     By  all  means ;  and  now  let  us  see 
what  your  wisdom  and  goodness  can  tell  us. 

The  Christian  revelation  makes  statements  which, 
if  true,  are  undoubtedly  of  the  very  highest  im- 
portance. God  is  angry  with  man.  Unless  we 
believe  and  repent  we  shall  all  be  damned.  It  is 
impossible,  indeed,  for  its  advocates  even  to  say  this 
without  instantly  contradicting  themselves.  Their 
doctrine  frightens   them.     They   explain   in  various 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


31 


ways  that  a  great  many  people  will  be  saved  without 
believing,  and  that  eternal  damnation  is  not  eternal 
nor  damnation.  It  is  only  the  vulgar  who  hold  such 
views,  and  who,  of  course,  must  not  be  disturbed  in 
them  ;  but  they  are  not  for  the  intelligent.  God 
grants  '  uncovenanted  mercies ' — that  is.  He  some- 
times lets  a  sinner  off,  though  He  has  not  made  a  legal 
bargain  about  it  -an  explanation  calculated  to  exalt 
our  conceptions  of  the  Deity !  But  let  us  pass  over 
these  endless  shufflings  from  the  horrible  to  the 
meaningless.  Christianity  tells  us  in  various  ways 
how  the  wrath  of  the  Creator  may  be  appeased  and 
His  goodwill  ensured.  The  doctrine  is  manifestly 
important  to  believers  ;  but  does  it  give  us  a  clearer 
or  happier  view  of  the  universe?  That  is  what  is 
required  for  the  confusion  of  Agnostics  ;  and,  if  the 
mystery  were  in  part  solved,  or  the  clouds  thinned  in 
the  slightest  degree,  Christianity  would  triumph  by 
its  inherent  merits.  Let  us,  then,  ask  once  more, 
Does  Christianity  exhibit  the  ruler  of  the  universe  as 
benevolent  or  as  just  ? 

If  I  were  to  assert  that  of  every  ten  beings  born 
into  this  world  nine  would  be  damned,  that  all  who 
refused  to  believe  what  they  did  not  hold  to  be  proved, 
and  all  who  sinned  from  overwhelming  temptation, 
and  all  who  had  not  had  the  good-fortune  to  be  the 
subjects  of  a  miraculous  conversion  or  the  recipients 
of  a  grace  conveyed  by  a  magical  charm,  would  be 
tortured    to  all   eternity,    what   would   an   orthodox 


32 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S   APOLOGY 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


33 


theologian  reply  ?    He  could  not  say,  *  That  is  false  ' ; 
I  might  appeal  to  the  highest  authorities  for  my  justi- 
fication ;  nor,  in  fact,  could  he  on  his  own  showing 
deny  the  possibility.     Hell,  he  says,  exists ;  he  does 
not  know  who  will  be  damned  ;  though  he  does  know 
that  all  men  are  by  nature  corrupt  and  liable  to  be 
damned   if  not  saved    by   supernatural    grace.     He 
might,  and  probably  would,  now  say,  '  That  is  rash. 
You  have  no  authority  for  saying  how  many  will  be 
lost  and  how  many  saved  :  you  cannot  even  say  what 
is  meant  by  hell  or  heaven :  you  cannot  tell  how  far 
God  may  be  better  than  His  word,  though  you  may  be 
sure  that  He  won't  be  worse  than  His  word.'     And 
what  is  all  this  but  to  say,  We  know  nothing  about  it  ? 
In  other  words,  to  fall  back  on  Agnosticism.     The 
difficulty,  as  theologians  truly  say,  is  not  so  much 
that  evil  is  eternal,  as  that  evil  exists.     That  is  in 
substance  a   frank   admission   that,   as   nobody  can 
explain    evil,   nobody   can   explain   anything.     Your 
revelation,  which  was  to  prove  the   benevolence  of 
God,   has   proved  only  that  God's  benevolence  mav 
be  consistent  with  the  eternal  and  infinite  misery  of 
most  of  His  creatures  ;  you  escape  only  by  saying 
that  it  is  also  consistent  with  their  not  being  eternally 
and  infinitely  miserable.     That  is,  the  revelation  re- 
veals nothing. 

But  the  revelation  shows  God  to  be  just.  Now,  if 
the  free-will  hypothesis  be  rejected  —and  it  is  rejected, 
not  only  by  infidels,  but  by  the  most  consistent  theo- 


logians— this  question  cannot  really  arise  at  all. 
Jonathan  Edwards  will  prove  that  there  cannot  be  a 
question  of  justice  as  between  man  and  God.  The 
creature  has  no  rights  against  his  Creator.  The 
question  of  justice  merges  in  the  question  of  benevo- 
lence ;  and  Edwards  will  go  on  to  say  that  most  men 
are  damned,  and  that  the  blessed  will  thank  God  for 
their  tortures.  That  is  logical,  but  not  consoling. 
Passing  this  over,  can  revejation  prove  that  God  is 
just,  assuming  that  justice  is  a  word  applicable  to 
dealings  between  the  potter  and  the  pot  ? 

And  here  we  are  sent  to  the  *  great  argument  of 
Butler.'      Like   some    other   theological    arguments 
already   noticed,   that   great   argument   is   to   many 
minds— those  of  James  Mill  and  of  Dr.  Martineau, 
for  example— a   direct   assault  upon   Theism,  or,  in 
other  words,  an  argument  for  Agnosticism.     Briefly 
stated,  it  comes  to  this.     The  God  of  revelation  can- 
not be  the  God  of  nature,  said  the  Deists,  because  the 
God  of  revelation  is  unjust.     The  God  of  revelation, 
replied  Butler,  may  be  the  God  of  nature,  for  the  God 
of  nature  is  unjust.     Stripped  of  its  various  involu- 
tions, that  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  this  celebrated 
piece  of  reasoning.    Butler,  I  must  say  in  passing, 
deserves  high   credit  for   two  things.     The  first   is 
that  he  is  the  only  theologian  who  has  ever  had  the 
courage  to  admit  that  any  difficulty  existed  when  he 
was  struggling  most  desperately  to  meet  the  difficulty  ; 
though   even   Butler  could   not  admit  that  such  a 

D 


1 


34 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


35 


difficulty  should  affect  a  man's  conduct.     Secondly, 
Butler's  argument  really  rests  upon  a  moral  theory, 
mistaken  indeed   in  some  senses,  but  possessing  a 
stoical  grandeur.      To   admit,  however,  that  Butler 
was  a  noble  and  a  comparatively  candid  thinker  is 
not  to  admit  that  he  ever  faced  the  real  difficulty.     It 
need  not  be  asked  here  by  what  means  he  evaded  it 
His  position  is  in  any  case  plain.     Christianity  tells 
us,  as  he  thinks,  that  God  damns  men  for  being  bad, 
whether  they  could  help  it  or  not ;  and  that  He  lets  them 
off,  or  lets  some  of  them  off,  for  the  sufferings  of  others. 
He  damns  the  helpless  and  punishes  the   innocent. 
Horrible  !  exclaims  the  infidel.  Possibly,  replies  Butler, 
but  nature  is  just  as  bad.    All  suffering  is  punishment. 
It  strikes  the  good  as  well  as  the  wicked.     The  father 
sins,  and  the  son  suffers.     I  drink  too  much,  and  my 
son  has  the  gout.     In  another  world  we  may  suppose 
that   the   same    system   will   be   carried    out    more 
thoroughly.     God  will  pardon  some  sinners  because 
He  punislied  Christ,  and  He  will  damn  others  ever- 
lastingly.    That   is   His  way.     A   certain    degree  of 
wrongdoing  liere  leads  to  irremediable  suffering,  or 
rather  to   suffering   remediable  by  death  alone.     In 
the  next  world   there  is  no   death;   therefore,   the 
suffering  won't  be  remediable  at  all.     The  world  is  a 
scene  of  probation,  destined  to  fit  us  for  a  better  life. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  most  men  make  it  a  discipline  of 
vice  instead  of  a  discipline  of  virtue  ;  and  most  men, 
therefore,  will  presumably  be  damned.     We  see  the 


same  thing  in  the  wa&te  of  seeds  and  animal  life,  and 
may  suppose,  therefore,  that  it  is  part  of  the  general 
scheme  of  Providence. 

This  is  the  Christian  revelation  according  to 
Butler.  Does  it  make  the  world  better?  Does  it 
not,  rather,  add  indefinitely  to  the  terror  produced  by 
the  sight  of  all  its  miseries,  and  justify  James  Mill 
for  feeling  that  rather  than  such  a  God  he  would 
have  no  God?  What  escape  can  be  suggested? 
The  obvious  one :  it  is  all  a  mystery ;  and  what  is 
mystery  but  the  theological  phrase  for  Agnosticism  ? 
God  has  spoken,  and  endorsed  all  our  most  hideous 
doubts.  He  has  said,  let  there  be  light,  and  there  is 
no  light— no  Hght,  but  rather  darkness  visible,  serving 
only  to  discover  sights  of  woe. 

The  believers  who  desire  to  soften  away  the  old 
dogmas— in  other  words,  to  take  refuge  from  the  un- 
pleasant results  of  their  doctrine  with  the  Agnostics, 
and  to  retain  the  pleasant  results  with  the  Gnostics 
—have  a  different  mode  of  escape.  They  know 
that  God  is  good  and  just ;  that  evil  will  somehow 
disappear  and  apparent  injustice  be  somehow  re- 
dressed. The  practical  objection  to  this  amiable 
creed  suggests  a  sad  comment  upon  the  whole  con- 
troversy. We  fly  to  religion  to  escape  from  our  dark 
forebodings.  But  a  religion  which  stifles  these  fore- 
bodings always  fails  to  satisfy  us.  We  long  to  hear  that 
they  are  groundless.  As  soon  as  we  are  told  that  they 
are  groundless  we  mistrust  our  authority.     No  poetry 

D   2 


J  f 


86 


AN   AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


\ 


.y: 


V..\ 


v^-^i. 


lives  which  reflects  only  the  cheerful  emotions.  Our 
sweetest  songs  are  those  which  tell  of  saddest  thought. 
We  can  bring  harmony  out  of  melancholy ;  we  cannot 
banish  melancholy  from  the  world.  And  the  religious 
utterances,  which  are  the  highest  form  of  poetry,  are 
bound  by  the  same  law.  There  is  a  deep  sadness  in 
the  world.  Turn  and  twist  the  thought  as  you  may, 
there  is  no  escape.  Optimism  would  be  soothing  if  it 
were  possible ;  in  fact,  it  is  impossible,  and  therefore 
a  constant  mockery ;  and  of  all  dogmas  that  ever 
were  invented,  that  which  has  least  vitality  is  the 
dogma  that  whatever  is,  is  riglit. 

Let  us,  how^ever,  consider  for  a  moment  what  is 
the  net  result  of  this  pleasant  creed.  Its  philosophical 
basis  may  be  sought  in  pure  reason  or  in  experience ; 
but,  as  a  rule,  its  adherents  are  ready  to  admit  that 
the  pure  reason  requires  the  support  of  the  emotions 
before  such  a  doctrine  can  be  esta])lished,  and  are 
therefore  marked  by  a  certain  tinge  of  mysticism. 
Tliey  feel  rather  than  know.  The  awe  with  which 
they  regard  the  universe,  the  tender  glow  of  reverence 
and  love  with  which  the  bare  sight  of  nature  affects 
them,  is  to  them  the  ultimate  guarantee  of  their 
beliefs.  Happy  those  who  feel  such  emotions  !  Only, 
when  they  try  to  extract  definite  statements  of  fact 
from  these  impalpable  sentiments,  they  should  beware 
how  far  such  statements  are  apt  to  come  into  terrible 
collision  with  reality.  And,  meanwhile,  those  who 
have  been  disabused  with  Candide,  who  have  felt  the 


i 

■ 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


37 


weariness  and  pain  of  all  '  this  unintelligible  world,' 
and  have  not  been  able   to  escape  into  any  mystic 
rapture,  have  as  much  to  say  for  their  own  version  of 
the  facts.     Is  happiness  a  dream,  or  misery,  or  is  it 
all  a  dream  ?     Does  not  our  answer  vary  with   our 
health  and  with  our  condition  ?    When,  rapt  in  the 
security  of  a  happy  life,  we  cannot  even  conceive  that 
our  happiness  will   fail,   we  are  practical  optimists. 
When  some  random  blow  out  of  the  dark  crushes  the 
pillars  round  which  our  life  has  been   entwined    as 
recklessly  as  a  boy  sweeps  away  a  cobweb,  when  at 
a   single   step   we  plunge   through  the   flimsy  crust 
of   happiness  into  the   deep  gulfs   beneath,   we  are 
tempted   to  turn  to  Pessimism.     Who  shall  decide, 
and  how?     Of  all  questions  that  can  be  asked,  the 
most  important  is  surely  this:   Is  the  tangled  web 
of  this  world  composed  chiefly   of   happiness   or   of 
misery  ?    And  of  all  questions  that  can  be  asked,  it 
is  surely   the  most  unanswerable.     For  in  no  other 
problem  is  the  diliiculty  of  discarding   the  illusions 
arising  from  our  own  experience,  of  eliminating  *  the 
personal   error'   and   gaining  an   outside   standing- 
point,  so  hopeless. 

I  In  any  case  the  real  appeal  must  be  to  experience. 
Ontologists  may  manufacture  libraries  of  jargon  with- 
out touching  the  point.  They  have  never  made,  or 
suggested  the  barest  possibihty  of  making,  a  bridge 
from  the  world  of  pure  reason  to  the  contingent 
world  in  which  we  live.     To  the  thinker  who  tries  to 


1-' 


\xf>' 


,v 


.---  \ 


38 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S   APOLOGY 


construct  the  universe  out  of  pure  reason,  the  actual 
existence  of  error  in  our  minds  and  disorder  in  the 
outside  world  presents  a  difficulty  as  hopeless  as  that 
which  the  existence  of  vice  and  misery  presents  to  the 
optimist  who  tries   to  construct  the  universe  out  of 
pure  goodness.     To  say  that  misery  does  not  exist  is  to 
contradict  the  primary  testimony  of  consciousness ;  to 
argue  on  d^rior-^  grounds  that  misery  or  happiness  pre- 
dominates, is  as  hopeless  a  task  as  to  deduce  from  the 
principle  of  the  excluded  middle  the  distance  from  St. 
Paul's  to  Westminster  Abbey.  Questions  of  fact  can  only 
be  solved  by  examining  facts.     Perhaps  such  evidence 
would  show— and  if  a  guess  were  worth  anything,  I 
should  add  that  I  guess  that  it  would  show— that  happi- 
ness predominates  over  misery  in  the  composition  of  the 
known  world.     I  am,  therefore,  not  prejudiced  against 
the  Gnostic's  conclusion  ;  but  I  add  that  the  evidence 
is  just  as  open  to  me  as  to  him.     The  whole  world  in 
which  we  live  may  be  an  illusion -a  veil  to  be  with- 
drawn in  some  higher  state  of  being.     But  be  it  what 
it  may,  it  supplies  all  the  evidence  upon  which  we  can 
rely.     If  evil  predominates  here,  we  have  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  good   predominates   elsewhere.     All 
the  ingenuity  of  theologians  can  never  shake  our  con- 
viction that  facts  are  what  we  feel  them  to  be,  nor 
invert  the  plain  inference  from  facts ;  and  facts  are 
just  as  open  to  one  school  of  thought  as  to  another. 
^  What,  then,  is  the  net  result  ?  One  insoluble  doubt 
has  haunted  men's  minds  since  thought  be^an  in  the 


ii 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


39 


world.  No  answer  has  ever  been  suggested.  One 
school  of  philosophers  hands  it  to  the  next.  It  is 
denied  in  one  form  only  to  reappear  in  another.  The 
question  is  not  which  system  excludes  the  doubt,  but 
how  it  expresses  the  doubt.  Admit  or  deny  the  com- 
petence of  reason  in  theory,  we  all  agree  that  it  fails 
in  practice.  Theologians  revile  reason  as  much  as 
Agnostics  ;  they  then  appeal  to  it,  and  it  decides  against 
them.  They  amend  their  plea  by  excluding  certain 
questions  from  its  jurisdiction,  and  those  questions 
include  the  whole  difficulty.  They  go  to  revelation, 
and  revelation  replies  by  calling  doubt,  mystery. 
They  declare  that  their  consciousness  declares  just 
what  they  want  it  to  declare.  Ours  declares  some- 
thing else.  Who  is  to  decide  ?  The  only  appeal  is 
to  experience,  and  to  appeal  to  experience  is  to 
admit  the  fundamental  dogma  of  Agnosticism. 

Is  it  not,  then,  the  very  height  of  audacity,  in 
face  of  a  difficulty  which  meets  us  at  every  turn, 
which  has  perplexed  all  the  ablest  thinkers  m  pro- 
portion to  their  ability,  which  vanishes  in  one  shape 
only  to  show  itself  in  another,  to  declare  roundly, 
not  only  that  the  difficulty  can  be  solved,  but  that 
it  does  not  exist  ?  Why,  when  no  honest  man  will 
deny  in  private  that  every  ultimate  problem  is 
wrapped  in  the  profoundest  mystery,  do  honest  men 
proclaim  in  pulpits  that  unhesitating  certainty  is  the 
duty  of  the  most  foolish  and  ignorant  ?  Is  it  not 
a  spectacle  to  make  the  angels  laugh  ?    We  are  a 


40 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGY 


company  of  ignorant  beings,  feeling  our  way  through 
mists  and  darkness,  learning  only  by  incessantly- 
repeated  blunders,  obtaining  a  glimmering  of  truth 
by  falling  into  every  conceivable  error,  dimly  dis- 
cerning light  enough  for  our  daily  needs,  but  hope- 
lessly differing  whenever  we  attempt  to  describe  the 
ultimate  origin  or  end  of  our  paths ;  and  yet,  when 
one  of  us  ventures  to  declare  that  we  don't  know  the 
map  of  the  universe  as  well  as  the  map  of  our 
infinitesimal  parish,  he  is  hooted,  reviled,  and  perhaps 
told  that  he  will   be  damned  to  all  eternity  for  his 
faithlessness.    Amidst  all  the  endless  and  hopeless 
controversies  which  have  left  nothing  but  bare  husks 
of  meaningless  words,  we  have  been  able  to  discover 
certain  reliable  truths.    They  don't  take  us  very  far, 
and  the  condition   of    discovering  them  has  been 
distrust  of  d  priori  guesses,  and    the    systematic 
mterrogation  of  experience.    Let  us,  say  some  of 
us,  follow  at  least  this  clue.    Here  we  shall  find 
sufficient  guidance  for  the  needs  of  life,  though  we 
renounce  for  ever  the  attempt  to  get  behind  the  veil 
which  no  one  has  succeeded  in  raising;  if,  indeed, 
there  be  anything  behind.     You  miserable  Agnostics ! 
IS  the  retort ;  throw  aside  such  rubbish,  and  cling  to 
the  old  husks.     Stick  to  the  words  which  profess  to 
explain  everything ;  call  your  doubts  mysteries,  and 
they  won't  disturb  you  any  longer ;  and  believe  in 
those  necessary  truths  of  which  no  two  philosophers 
have  ever  succeeded  in  giving  the  same  version. 


V||, 


AN  AGNOSTIC'S  APOLOGi' 


i 
(I 

if 

1,4 


41 


Gentlemen,  we  can  only  reply,  wait  till  you  have 
some  show  of  agreement  amongst  yom-selves.     Wait 
till  you  can  give  some  answer,  not  palpably  a  verbal 
answer,  to  some  one  of  the  doubts  which  oppress  us 
as  they  oppress  you.     Wait  till  you  can  point  to  some 
single  truth,  however  trifling,  which  has   been   dis- 
covered by  your  method,  and  will  stand  the  test  of 
discussion  and  verification.     Wait  till  you  can  appeal 
to  reason  without  in  the  same  breath  vilifying  reason. 
Wait  till  your  Divine  revelations  have  something  more 
to  reveal  than  the  hope  that  the  hideous  doubts  which 
they   suggest   may  possibly   be  without   foundation. 
Till  then  we  shall  be  content  to  admit  openly,  what 
you  whisper  under  your  breath  or  hide  in  technical 
jargon,  that  the  ancient  secret  is  a  secret  still ;  that 
man  knows  nothing  of  the  Infinite  and  Absolute  ;  and 
that,  knowing  nothing,  he  had  better  not  be  dogmatic 
about    his     ignorance.     And,     meanwhile,    we    will 
endeavour  to  be  as  charitable  as  possible,  and  whilst 
you   trumpet   forth  officially  your  contempt  for  our 
scepticism,  we  will  at  least  try  to  believe  that  you  are 
imposed  upon  by  your  own  bluster. 


42 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVE BS 

Good  people  sometimes  ask  why  materialist  and  in- 
fidel doctrines  spread  in  spite  of  the  incessant  and 
crushing  refutations  to  which  they  are  so  frequently 
exposed.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  insist  upon  one 
very  obvious  answer.  Many  diseases  are  fatal  to 
men ;  one  should  be  fatal  to  religions-^the  disease  of 
being  found  out.  Hume  died  over  a  century  ago,  and 
grave  theological  professors  are  still  trying  hard  to 
believe  in  the  miracle  of  the  swine.  Is  it  strange  that 
the  authority  of  professors  has  become  shadowy? 
The  old  belief  in  truth  has  become  weak,  partly  be- 
cause it  is  so  often  a  sham  belief,  ind  partly  because 
it  is  chiefly  a  negative  belief.  No  man  makes  con- 
verts who  does  not  believe  what  he  says,  nor  will  he 
make  them  easily  when  his  creed  consists  chiefly  in 
denying  the  strongest  and  most  fruitful  convictions  of 
his  neighbours.  A  creed  which  is  always  on  the 
defensive  must  be  decrepit.  I  will  not  dwell  upon  the 
first  of  these  explanations.  It  is  not  pleasant  to  in- 
sist upon  the  hypocrisy,  generally  unconscious,  of  the 
respectable  world.     But   I   propose   to  consider   the 


f  I 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


43 


other  explanation,  which  is,  perhaps,  a  little  more  in 
need  of  defence. 

It  sounds  paradoxical  to  declare  that  the  orthodox 
belief  is  essentially  sceptical.  The  unbeliever  is  still 
identified  with  the  Mephistopheles  whose  essence  it  is 
to  deny.  He  denies,  it  is  said,  a  hereafter  and  a 
Divine  element  in  the  present.  The  denial  implies 
the  abandonment  of  the  most  cheering  hopes  and  the 
highest  aspirations  of  mankind.  Therefore,  to  charge 
with  scepticism  those  who  are  fighting  against  Mate- 
rialism and  Atheism  is  at  best  to  indulge  in  a  frivolous 
til  quoque.  A  similar  retort,  however,  is  common 
enough  in  the  mouths  of  the  orthodox.  Nor  is  the 
taunt  without  foundation.  Quasi-scientific  persons 
are  given  to  dabbling  in  gross  superstition.  Of  the 
two,  the  Catholic  confessor  has  obvious  advantages 
over  a  medium,  and  one  would,  perhaps,  prefer  the 
service  of  the  ancient  Church  to  sitting  at  the  feet  of 
a  Harris  or  a  Blavatsky.  The  remark  has  a  real 
significance.  To  speak  brutally,  faith  oftens  means 
belief  in  my  nonsense  ;  and  credulity,  the  belief  in  the 
nonsense  of  somebody  else.  It  is,  unfortunately,  true 
that  the  rejection  of  one  kind  of  nonsense  does  not 
imply  the  rejection  of  all  nonsense,  and  it  follows  that 
scepticism  and  credulity  may  mean  the  very  same 
thing — the  acceptance,  namely,  of  a  doctrine  which  is 
sceptical  in  so  far  as  it  contradicts  my  opinion,  and 
credulous  in  so  far  as  it  agrees  with  yours.  It  is 
worth  while  to  consider  the  point  a  little  more  closely. 


44 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


Scepticism -in   the  fullest  sense  of  the  word    a 
rejection  of  belief  as  belief-is,  if  not  a  strictly  un- 
thmkable,  at  least  a  practically  impossible,  state  of 
mmd.    Metaphysicians  may  play  with  such  a  doc- 
trme,  or  may  impute  it  to  their  antagonists.    If  they 
succeed  in  fastening  that  imputation  upon  any  system 
they  have  virtually  established  a  reductio  ad  ahsur- 
dum.    To  make  doubting,  as  doubting,  a  principle  is 
impossible.    In  regard  to  the  great  bulk  of  ordinary 
beliefs,  the  so-called  sceptics  are  just  as  much  be- 
hevers  as  their  opponents.   Hume,  for  example,  was  as 
certam  as  Newton  that  an  unsupported  apple  would 
fall,  though  he  endeavoured  to  deduce  his  certainty 
from   experience.    The    thinkers  generally  charged 
with  scepticism  are  equally  charged  with  an  exces- 
sive  belief  in   the  constancy  and   certainty   of  so- 
called  '  laws  of  nature.'    They  assign  a  natural  cause 
to  certain  phenomena  as  confidently  as  their  opponents 
assign  a  supernatural  cause.     No  man  of  any  school 
denies  the  possibility  of  attaining  certainty  in  regard 
to   such   laws  as  are  verifiable  by  experience.     The 
real  problem  is  not.  Ought  we  to  believe-but,  Why 
ought  we  to  believe-that  two  and  two  make  four,  that 
there  is  a  place  called  Eome,  or  that  the  planets  obey 
the  laws  of  gravitation  ?    The  believer  in  necessary 
ti-uths  assumes  by  the  form  of  his  argument  that  his 
opponents  do  in  fact  believe,  and  cannot  help  believ- 
ing, the  truths  which  he  asserts  to  be  necessary, 
though  they  may  deny  the  propriety  of  the  epithet. 


THE   SCEPnciSM  OF  BELIEVEKS 


45 


\\ 


Iff 


IS 


The  most  thoroughgoing  empuicist  may  suggest 
that  truths,  such  as  those  of  geometry,  would  cease 
to  be  valid  under  some  other  conditions,  but  he  does 
not  deny  their  validity  within  the  whole  sphere  of 
actual  experience.  By  attacking  the  supposed  dis- 
tinction between  the  two  classes  of  truth,  he  elevates 
the  claims  of  empirical  as  much  as  he  depresses  those 
of  a  priori  knowledge.  We  can  no  more  alter  the 
intensity  of  belief  in  general  than  we  can  change  our 
centre  of  gravity  without  some  external  point  of  sup- 
port. One  set  of  thinkers  holds  that  we  must  pierce 
to  the  absolute  or  transcendental  in  order  to  provide 
foundations  for  the  whole  edifice  of  belief.  Another 
set  holds  that  such  a  foundation  is  not  discoverable, 
but  adds  that  it  is  unnecessary. 

The  point  is  obscured  by  the  habit  of  speaking  of 
*  belief '  in  general,  without  reference  to  its  contents, 
and  of  proceeding  to  imply  that  it  is  in  some  way  a 
creditable,  whereas  unbelief  is  a  discreditable,  state  of 
mind.  The  obvious  reply  is,  that  l)elief  and  unbelief 
are  the  very  same  thing.  It  is  a  mere  question  of  con- 
venience whether  I  shall  express  myself  in  negative  or 
positive  terms  ;  whether  I  shall  say  '  man  is  mortal,' 
or  '  man  is  not  immortal.'  The  believer  at  Eome  is 
the  infidel  at  Mecca,  and  conversely.  The  believer  in 
the  geocentric  system  has  not  more  or  less  belief  than 
the  believer  in  the  heliocentric  system— he  has  simply 
an  opposite  belief.  To  say,  therefore,  that  belief  qua 
belief  is  better  or  worse  than  unbelief  is  a  contradiction 


46 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


47 


m  terms.    Assertion  is  denial ;  and  it  is  a  transparent 
though  a  common  fallacy  to  give  an  absolute  character 
to  a  proposition  which  by  its  very  nature  can  only 
be  true  in  a  particular  relation.    Belief  and  unbelief 
being  identical  in  nature,  either  is  good  just  so  far  as  it 
IS  reasonable  or  logical ;  so  far,  that  is,  as  it  embodies 
the  rules  which  secure  a  conformity  between  the  world 
of  thought  and  the  world  of  fact.     A  great  deal  of  slip- 
shod rhetoric  about  faith  and  reason  is  dissipated  by 
this  simple  consideration.    We  are  told  of  the  blessed- 
ness of  a  childhke  and  trusting  frame  of  mind.     These 
question-begging  epithets  are  out  of  place  in  logic 
A  childish  and  credulous  state  of  mind  is  a  bad  thing- 
and  we  can  only  decide  whether  the  complimentary  or 
uncomplimentary  adjectives  are  appropriate  by  know- 
ing whether  the  state  of  mind  is  reasonable  in  the 
given  case.     Has  our  confidence  reasonable  grounds 
or  not  •?    No  other  test  than  the  purely  logical  test  can 
even  be  put  into  articulate  shape.     If  we  insist  upon 
using  '  scepticism  '  to  designate  a  mental  vice,  we  must 
interpret  it  to  mean,  not  doubt  in  general,  but  unreason- 
able doubt ;  and  in  Huh  sense  tlie  most  sceptical  man 
18  he  who  prefers  the  least  weight  of  evidence  to  the 
greatest -or,  in  other  words,  he  is  identical  with  the 
most  credulous. 

Faith,  indeed,  may  in  one  sense  be  called  a  virtue 
even  m  regard  to  questions  of  pure  reason.  It  is  ou^ 
duty  to  believe  what  appears  to  us  to  be  proved  The 
proposition  seems  to  be  superfluous,  because  from  a 


I 


purely  logical  point  of  view  the  two  things  seem  to  be 
identical.     '  To  know/  it  may  be  said,  includes  '  to 
believe.'     Yet,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  as  common  to 
know  without  believing  as  to  believe  without  knowing. 
The  reason  has  to  reckon  with  instincts  not  less  powerful 
than  irrational.     I  may  know  that  I  am  absolutely  safe 
when  I  am  at  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  but  my  body 
declines  to  be  convinced,  and  shudders  and  turns  giddy 
in  spite  of  conclusive  evidence.     A  demonstration  may 
be  as  clear  to  me  as  a  jjroposition  of  Euclid  ;  but  fear 
of  authority,  or  dread  of  consequences,  or  mere  blind 
sympathy  with  others,  may  prevent  its  real  assimilation. 
To  believe  what  we  know  to  be  certain  may  at  times 
even   require  a  kind  of  intellectual  heroism.     And, 
therefore,  when  Locke  laid  down  tlie  principle  that  we 
should  in  all  cases  proportion  our  beliefs  to  the  evidence, 
he  was  indeed  uttering  what  seems  to  be  a  truism,  but 
what   was,  nevertheless,   a   highly  important   truth. 
The  supremacy  of   reason  within  its  own  sphere   is 
rightful,  but  is  seldom  actual,  and  a  downright  defiance 
of  logic  is  not  an  impossibility,  though  it  is  an  absurdity. 
In  a  relevant  sense  again,  faith  is  indeed  the  name 
of  one  of  tlie  highest  of  virtues ;  of  the  enthusiasm 
which  keeps  the  world  from  corruption,  and  now  and 
then  lifts  it  out  of  its  ancient  ruts.     The  phrase  in  this 
acceptation  includes  not  merely  the  intellectual  con- 
viction, but  the  moral  purpose.     Psychologists  have  to 
distinguish  between  the  intellect  and  the  emotions ; 
but  they  do  not  exist  as  two  separate  entities.     They 


48 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


THE   SCEPTICISM   OF  BELIEVERS 


49 


are,  rather,  seen  to  be  separate  aspects  of  an  indis- 
soluble unity.     Thought  without  feeling  is  an  empty 
form,  and   feeling  without  thought  a  mere  formless 
chaos.     Faith  is  often  used  to  designate  that  state  in 
which  a  man's  affections  or  passions  are  definitely 
organised   and   brought  to  bear  upon  some   definite 
pm-pose,  and  which   therefore  implies  a  framework 
of  distinct  convictions  directing  and   combining  the 
impulses  of  his  moral  nature.     We  honour  the  old 
heroes  who  *  through  faith  put  to  flight  the  armies  of 
the  aliens,'  and  gave  up  life  for  a  worthy  end.     We 
honour  the  man  who  has  faith  in  his  friends,  in  his 
country,  in  his  cause,  or  in  human  nature ;  /or  such 
faith  implies,  not  merely  an  intellectual  state,  but  the 
capacity   for   love    and    self-sacrifice   and    generous 
devotion.     Such  devotion  calls  for  no  sacrifice  of  the 
most  absolute  truthfulness.     The  enthusiast  has,  it  is 
true,  a  special  temptation  to  certain  illusions.  '  The 
mother  who  loves  her  children  sometimes  exaggerates 
their  merits,  and  the  philanthropist  thinks  men  a  good 
deal  fitter  for  the  millennium  than  the  cool  observer 
would  admit.     Poetic  genius,  we  are  told,  lies  peril- 
ously  near  to  madness,  and  the  hero  is  own  brother  to 
the  fanatic.  We  regard  such  errors  leniently,  for  danger 
to  mankind  does  not  lie  in  the  direction  of  their  ex- 
cessive frequency.     Yet,  so  far  as  there  is  error  there 
is  weakness.     Nelson's  patriotism  led  him  to  entertain 
the  erroneous  belief  that  one  Englishman  was  equal 
to  three  Frenchmen.     Fortunately,  he  had  too  much 


genius  to  act  upon  it  unreservedly.     He  took  very  good 
care  in  his  battles  that  two  Englishmen  should  be 
opposed  to  one  Frenchman.     We  can  therefore  smile 
at  a  theory  which  represents  merely  the  exuberance  of 
an  enthusiasm  which  knew  how  in  practice  to  obey 
the  rules  of  common-sense.     But  the  belief,  taken 
seriously  by  a  stupid  leader,  would  have  meant  a 
certainty  of  disaster.     The  hero  is  not  the  man  who 
miscalculates  or  overlooks  the  risk,  but  the  man  who 
measures  it  fairly,  and  dares  it  when  it  must  be  dared. 
Blindness  to  danger  is  only  a  sham  version  of  true 
heroism.     The  more  accurate  our  estimate  of  facts 
the  greater  our  capacity,  though  at  times,  also,  the 
greater  the  strain  upon  our  powers.     If  enthusiasm 
often  generates  delusion,  that  explains  why  so  much 
honest  enthusiasm  runs  to  waste ;  why  a  fond  parent 
spoils  the  child  to  whose  faults  he  is  blind  ;  why  the 
patriot  ruins  his  country  by  impracticable  enterprise, 
and  the  philanthropist  stimulates  and  encourages  the 
evils  which  he  intends  to  cure. 

Once  more,  faith  in  this  sense  has  its  negative 
aspect.  It  is  as  emphatic  in  its  rejection  of  one  ideal 
as  it  is  in  its  acceptance  of  another.  The  early 
Christians  were  Atheists  from  the  Pagan  point  of 
view.  Some  of  the  sternest  and  most  vigorous  faiths 
that  the  world  has  known  have  shown  themselves 
chiefly  in  the  iconoclastic  direction.  English  Puritans 
and  Hebrew  Prophets  denounced  their  opponents  as 
idolaters,  and   expressed  the  most   unequivocal  dis- 


III 


50 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


THE   SCEPTICISM   OF  BELIEVERS 


51 


belief  in  the  virtues  of  sacerdotal  magic.     The  keenest 
fanatics   in   recent  years   have,   perhaps,   been   the 
Eussian  *  Nihilists,'  who  show  their  faith  by  beHeving 
in  nothing.     The  simple-minded  assumption,  there- 
fore, that  faith   is   to   be   measured   by  quantity  of 
belief:   that  a  beHever  and  an  unbeliever  differ  in 
this,  that  one  has  thirty-nine  articles  of  belief,  and 
his  opponent  only  thirty-eight,  or,  perhaps,  simply  a 
negation  of  all,  clearly  gives  an  inaccurate  measure 
of  the  facts.     The  man  has  most  faith,  in  the  sense 
in  which  faith  represents  a  real  force,  whose  convic- 
tions are  such  as   are  most   favourable  to  energetic 
action,  and  is  freest  from  the  doubts  which  imralyse 
the  will  in  the  great  moments  of  life.     He  must  have  a 
clear  vision  of  an  end  to  be  achieved,  devotion  to  which 
may  be  the  rulmg  passion  of  his  life  and  the  focus 
to  which  all  his  energies  may  converge.     If  we  are  to 
follow  the  Holy  Grail,  a  belief  in  its  existence  and  in 
its   surpassing  value  must  be  inwoven  in  the  very 
tissue  of  those  intimate  beliefs  which  form  each  man's 
universe.     But  it  is  not  to  be  assumed  that  because 
we  place  our  object  in  the  heaven  of  simple  believers, 
or  in  the  philosopher's  transcendental  world  of  pure 
ideas,  that  it  supplies  a  stronger  or  a  loftier  faith. 
We  know  too  well,  by  long  experience,  how  shifting 
and  phantasmagoric  are  the  visions  which  haunt  the 
region  of  transcendentalism.     If,  indeed,  beliefs  drawn 
from  some  supernal  region  can  enable  us  to  solve  the 
dark  riddles  of  existence,  if  they  can  suggest  loftier 


motives  and  clearer  rules,  they  may  be  essential  to  a 
worthy  conduct  of  daily  life.     If,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  attempt  to  soar  above  our  atmosphere  be  destined 
to  inevitable  failure,  if  the  Holy  Grail  is  a  mere 
chimera,  a  shadowy  reflection  of  realities  cast  upon 
the   surrounding  darkness,  our  devotion   may  only 
land  us  in  hopeless  perplexity.    Explain  it  as  we 
may,  or  regard  it  as  inexplicable,  we  have  thoughts 
and  sensations,  pains  and  pleasures,  a  solid  earth  to 
live  upon,  and  fellow-men  to  love  and  hate,  to  rule, 
to  obey,  or  to  help.     How  to  regulate  our  lives  and 
what  end  to  pursue  is  a  problem  for  which  we  all  have 
to  lind  some  tolerable  solution.     What  creed  will  give 
us  the  clearest  rules,  and  reduce  the  inevitable  un- 
certainty to  a  minimum  ?     To  answer  that  question  is 
to  say  which  creed  leaves  least  room  for  the  scepticism 
which  clouds  our  vision  and  favours  the  faith  which 
is  the  other  side  of  energetic  conduct.     In  considering 
it  we  must  take  into  account,  not  only  the  positive 
but  the  negative  implications  of  any  given  creed.     We 
must  ask  for  more  than  positive  and  arbitrary  direc- 
tions.    No  creed  is  at  a  loss  for  directions  of  that 
kind.     Eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die  ;  mortify 
the  flesh,  for  death  comes  to-morrow,  are  equally  pre- 
cise rules,  and  may  commend  themselves  to  different 
minds.      We  have  further    to    ask.   Whether    the 
philosophy   upon   which    the   creed   reposes   is   not 
merely  such  as  to  give  definite  rules,  but  such  as  to 
base  them  upon  the  most  satisfactory  and  verifiable 

K  2 


52 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


grounds.  A  rule  which  we  feel  to  be  arbitrary  is  as 
good  as  no  rule  at  all. 

I  propose,  therefore,  to  dwell  for  a  little  upon  the 
negations  of  the  orthodox  creed  ;  to  show  how  it 
implicitly  denies  some  of  the  most  important  truths 
upon  which  our  rule  of  conduct  must  repose,  and, 
though  it  issues  the  most  absolute  commands,  really 
leaves  room  for  doubts  by  offering  a  sham  solution. 
The  convinced  Christian,  or  Buddhist,  or  Mahomedan 
has,  of  course,  a  faith,  and  a  set  of  positive  pre- 
scriptions. Such  faiths  have,  in  their  time,  worked 
miracles,  and  no  doubt  still  possess  a  vast  vitality. 
But  if  to  the  most  thoughtful  minds  these  solutions 
have  become  untenable,  it  is  because  they  deny 
positive  principles  which  have  been  slowly  growing 
and  strengthening  for  centuries,  and  because  they, 
so  far,  have  a  stronger  afdnity  to  scepticism  than  to 
genuine  faith. 

Let  us  look,  first,  at  the  historical  creed,  which 
for  centuries  could  only  be  assailed  at  the  risk  of  the 
unbeliever's  life.  A  man  believes  in  the  supernatural 
birth  of  the  founder  of  his  religion.  He  denies,  then, 
that  a  certain  event  took  place  in  accordance  with  the 
laws  exemplified  in  all  ordinary  cases.  Unless  he  can 
give  some  adequate  reason  for  taking  the  case  out  of 
the  ordinary  category,  he  impugns  the  validity  of  the 
inductive  process  upon  which  he  counts  at  every  step 
in  daily  life.  He  is  so  far  a  sceptic  as  he  is 
throwing  doubt  upon   the  validity  of  one  of    the 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


53 


primary  ratiocinative  processes.     The  same  is  true 
whenever   an   event  admitted   to   have   happened  is 
ascribed  by  one  party  to  supernatural  interference. 
Somebody  expressed  surprise  the  other  day  that  men 
of  science  should  take  into  account  the  existence  of 
flint  implements,  and  refuse  to  take  into  account  the 
existence  of   the  Bible   and   Christianity.     I    never 
happened  to  hear  of  the  man  of  science  who  denied 
the  existence  of  either.     Does  the  man  really  decline 
to  take  a  fact  into  account  when  he  declares  it  to  be 
altogether  exceptional  and  supernatural,  or  when  he 
explains  it  as  resulting  from  the  normal  operation 
of  known  forces  ?    Is  it  more  sceptical  to  say  that 
somebody   compiled   the   book   of  Genesis   from  old 
legends  by  the  same  faculties  which  enabled  another 
man  to  compile  the  *  Iliad,'  or  to  say  that  nobody  could 
have   told  the  story  of  Adam  and  Eve  without  the 
direct  assistance  of  God  Almighty  ?     In  the  ordinary 
case,  the  fact,  as  well  as  the  explanation,  is  doubted. 
We  refuse  to  believe  in  the  story  of  the  Magi  because 
it  involves  impossibilities  and  rests  upon  no  evidence. 
Somebody — we  know  not  who — wrote — we  know  not 
when — on   some   authority — we  know  not    what— a 
story  which  implies  a   belief  in  exploded  doctrines, 
and   showed,   by  ignoring  all   difficulties,   his   utter 
innocence   of  anything  like  historical  criticism.     To 
disbelieve  his  evidence  implies  the  assumption  that 
such  evidence  is  falHble,  and  that  unfounded  stories 
may  obtain  currency  in  a  sect  when  they  honour  the 


54 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  P.ELIEVERS 


55 


founder  of  the  sect.  No  human  being  denies  these 
assumptions.  Everyone  who  asserts  the  truth  of  this 
particular  legend  is  ready  to  assert  them  in  the  case 
of  every  sect  but  his  own.  The  phenomenon  which 
we  all  admit  is  the  existence  of  a  certain  narrative. 
One  person  classes  it  with  authentic  history,  another 
with  a  well-known  variety  of  popular  legend.  Neither 
denies  the  existence  of  much  authentic  history  and 
of  much  popular  legend.  How  are  we  to  decide 
which  is  right?  Surely  by  Hume's  very  simple 
principle.  There  is  nothing  inconsistent  with  the 
admitted  rules  derived  from  experience  in  admitting 
the  story  to  be  a  legend  ;  but  there  is  an  admitted 
contradiction  to  such  rules  in  supposing  the  truth  of 
astrology  and  of  stars  standing  over  the  birthplace 
of  prophets. 

On  what  principle,  then,  does  it  show  more  faith 
to  admit  than  to  reject  such  legends,  unless  faith 
be  defined,  with  the  schoolgirl,  as  a  belief  in  what  we 
know  to  be  false  ?  Excellent  people  still  think  them- 
selves entitled  to  take  an  air  of  moral  superiority 
because  they  accept  marvellous  stories  without  a 
fragment  of  evidence.  To  argue  against  such  a 
position  would  be  too  degrading.  When  I  read  that 
one  eminent  person  believes  in  devils  possessing  pigs, 
and  another  in  the  existence  of  Noah's  ark,  I  am  simply 
surprised.  I  fully  believe  that  they  are  sincere ;  but  I 
wonder  how  I  should  convey  a  belief,  even  in  their 
sincerity,  to  anyone  born  out   of   the    magic   circle. 


Such  people,  at  any  rate,  are  safe  from  any  arguments 
of  mine.  I  can  only  suggest  that  they  should  study 
the  works  of  Voltaire.  He  was  a  '  scoifer,'  it  is  true, 
though  a  scoffer  with  a  more  masculine  faith  in  reason 
than  can  be  found  among  the  ninety-and-nine  just 
persons  who  never  saw  a  joke  in  their  lives.  The 
beliefs  he  combated  are,  in  point  of  fact,  ridiculous ; 
they  have  passed  beyond  the  sphere  of  reason.  If 
you  would  in  any  sense  answer  him,  it  must  not  be 
by  holding  on  to  Jonah's  whale,  but  by  cutting  your- 
self loose  from  that  unfortunate  monster.  How 
degrading  this  desperate  clinging  to  every  rag  of  old 
superstition  must  appear  to  those  who  have  the  use 
of  their  intellects  may  be  sufficiently  evident  from  a 
too  famous  utterance  of  Newman.  Admitting  that 
the  Old  Testament  was  in  contradiction  with  modern 
astronomy,  he  held  that  both  might  still  be  true. 
Science  says  that  the  earth  goes  round  the  sun ; 
theology,  that  the  sun  goes  round  the  earth.  That 
sounds,  no  doubt,  like  a  contradiction ;  but  then, 
theology,  or  the  Bible,  spoke  in  a  metaphysical 
sense,  and  metaphysicians  (some  at  least)  tell  us 
that  space  is  subjective,  or  don't  know  what  to 
make  of  it.  The  argument  would  be  admirably 
suited  to  the  famous  case  of  Mahomet :  the  moun- 
tain came  to  him  just  as  truly  as  he  went  to  the 
mountain  ;  but  if  any  Mahomedan  made  the  statement, 
and  defended  it  in  such  a  way,  we  should  probably 
accuse  him  of  gross  equivocation.      At   least,  one 


56 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


might  have  expected  Jehovah,  if  he  was  the  author  of 
the  statement,  to  have  hit  upon  some  phrase  which 
would  have  conveyed  the  truth  without  apparently 
sanctioning  a  delusion.  By  accepting  it  as  somehow 
true  sense  we  are,  indeed,  enabled  to  believe  as  an 
historic  fact  that  the  God  of  heaven  and  earth  stopped 
a  revolution  of  this  planet  in  order  that  one  barbarous 
tribe  might  massacre  a  few  more  thousands  of  another. 
If  Jehovah  was  capable  of  such  a  stroke  to  get  the 
better  of  Chemosh,  I  can  only  say  that  he  was  not 
the  kind  of  character  whom  I  should  choose  for  a 
Deity.  According  to  M.  Eenan,  the  whole  blunder 
probably  arose  from  the  prosaic  construction  of  a 
poetic  figure.  If  Milton  came  to  be  regarded  as  an 
inspired  poet,  we  should  make  a  similar  history  from 
his  words  in  the  *  Christmas  Hymn  ' : 

The  stars  in  deep  amaze 
Stood  fixed  with  steadfast  gaze. 

Strange  that  the  hyperbole  of  an  ancient  writer  of 
war-songs  should  have  led  a  man  of  genius  two  or 
three  thousand  years  later  to  grovel  in  such  humiliat- 
ing sophistries,  and  think  that  he  was  so  doing  worthy 
homage  to  the  Almighty ! 

I  can  only  marvel  that  any  man  should  seriously 
suppose  that  all  that  is  most  precious  and  elevating 
in  his  beliefs  should  be  held  on  the  tenure  of  the 
acceptance  as  historical  facts  of  legends  only  to  be 
paralleled  by  the  stories  of  folk-lore.     I  can  no  more 


THE   SCEPTICISM   OF  BELIEVERS 


67 


understand  that  any  serious  injury  can  come  to  my 
moral  nature  from  disbelief  in  Samson  than  from  dis- 
belief in  Jack  the  Giant-killer.  I  care  as  little  for 
Goliah  as  for  the  giant  Blunderbore.  I  am  glad  that 
children  should  amuse  themselves  with  nursery  stories, 
but  it  is  shocking  that  they  should  be  ordered  to 
believe  in  them  as  solid  facts,  and  then  be  told  that 
such  superstition  is  essential  to  morality.  It  is  the 
more  shocking  because  the  idolatry  of  the  Bible 
deprives  it  of  its  strongest  interest.  It  is  just  by 
reading  what  is  called  destructive  criticism  that  we 
discover  the  unique  interest  of  the  Bible.  Accept  the 
Jewish  legends  as  historical  truth,  and  you  have  to 
believe  in  a  state  of  things  grotesque  in  itself  and 
absolutely  divorced  from  all  living  realities.  War- 
burton  argued — how  far  he  argued  sincerely  is  a 
curious  puzzle— that  God  Almighty  was  really  once 
Jehovah,  and  governed  the  Chosen  People  by  a 
system  totally  different  from  that  upon  which  He 
governed  the  rest  of  the  human  race.  The  whole  his- 
tory was  an  exception  to  all  other  history.  That  is  only 
to  bring  out  in  its  most  brutal  form  the  assumption 
which  underlies  the  orthodox  doctrine.  Will  anyone 
now  dare  to  say  that  the  God  of  the  universe  was  once 
the  God  of  a  small  tribe;  that  he  reflected  all  its 
national  characteristics,  was  savage,  vindictive,  and 
arbitrary ;  that  he  then  used  temporal  instead  of 
eternal  punishments,  and  with  very  partial  success 
tried  to  help  his  favourites  in  their  struggle  for  exist- 


58 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


ence  ?    Yet,  so  far  as  we  are  to  take  the  Jewish  legends 
as  history  of  outward  fact,  insteadof  historical  documents 
illustrating  the  Jewish  stage  of  mental  develoj)ment,  we 
fall  into  Warburton's  amazing  misconstruction.     The 
whole  story  is  torn  from  all  historical  context,  and 
becomes  a  barren  collection  of  marvels.     Once  apply 
the  true  historical  method— assume  that  the  Jew  be- 
longs to  human  nature,  that  he  has  the  same  passions, 
senses,  and  thoughts  as   other   men,  and   the  story 
suddenly  becomes  alive,  and  gains  all  the  interest  of  a 
genuine  human  narrative.     The  critic  may  blunder  in 
his  interpretation  of  fragmentary  documents  of  un- 
certain origin  and  composition  ;  he  may  be  fanciful,  and 
apt  to  see  too  far  into  millstones  ;  but  the  astonishing 
difference  is  that  he  now  deals  at  least  with  the  pos- 
sible and  the  credible.     To  read   such   a   book,  for 
example,  as  Kenan's   *  History  of  the  Jews '   is  to 
receive  a  new,  though  a  human,  revelation.     We  have 
a  conceivable  account  of  an  imaginable  history ;  we 
lose  stories  of  wonder  as  foolish  and  fanciful  as  those 
which  smTound  the  cradles  of  other  races,  but  in  re- 
turn we  see  the  people  themselves ;  we  watch  the  slow 
struggle  out  of  primitive  superstitions,  the  develop- 
ment under  unique  conditions  of  institutions  of  singu- 
lar interest ;  we  come  to  understand  that  the  Prophets 
were  not  propounders  of  queer  conundrums,  to   be 
answered  in  a  later  number,  but  the  vigorous  advo- 
cates of  great  principles,  half-understood,  and  mingled 
with  many  gross  superstitions  and  narrow  prejudices, 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


59 


yet  able  to  elevate  the  race  and  to  leave  the  deepest 
and  most  permanent  of  impressions  upon  the  history 
of  mankind.     The  study  becomes  correlated  with  all 
that  we  have  learnt  from  analogous  studies  elsewhere, 
and  the  whole  story  pregnant  with  a  new  interest.     It 
is   unique,  but  no   longer  exceptional.     It   does  not 
imply  that  the  general  laws  of  Nature  are  broken,  but 
only  that  they  are  exemplified  under  special  conditions. 
We  have  before  us  men  and  women,  not  the  strange 
imagery  of  a  world  of  gods  and  devils ;  we  give  up 
floods  to  the  top  of  Ararat,  and   stars   stopped  to 
win  a  border  skirmish,  and  we  see  for  the  first  time 
a  vivid  and  living  picture  of  a  great  race  struggling 
under  the  conditions  which  govern  all  human  en- 
deavour.    All  generous  and  far-seeing  theologians 
are  beginning  to  acknowledge  this.     The  historical 
method  has  been  admitted  into  the  Churches.     Even 
apologists  acknowledge  the  working  of  a  Divine  Power, 
not  only  within  the  precincts  of  Palestine,  but  through- 
out the  vast  regions  and  ancient  civilisations  where 
the  very  name  has  never  been  heard.     They  have 
given  up  the  theory  that  other  people's   gods  were 
simply  devils,  and  recognise  them  as  partial  manifes- 
tations of  the  power  which  created  our  own.     They 
hesitate,  indeed,  about  the  New  Testament.     Jehovah 
has  become  a  rather  questionable  personage  ;  but  they 
still    maintain   that   God   once   became   man — with 
characteristics  very  unlike  those  of  Jehovah.     Yet  the 
New  Testament  history  is  as  much  in  need   of  a 


— —1i 


60 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


reconstruction  as  the  Old.     To  take  one  extreme  case, 
there  are  few  thmgs  more  cmious  than  the  fate  of  the 
Apocalypse.     We  now  know,  beyond  all   reasonable 
doubt,  the  date  of  its  composition.     We  can  read  its 
•  prophecies  '  with  the  clearest  understanding  of  their 
meaning.     To  do  so,  we  have  only  to  assume  that  by 
Jerusalem  the  writer  meant  Jerusalem,  and  to  accept 
what  he  tells  us  himself  of  the  meaning  of  the  horns 
of  the  beast.     We  can  interpret   the  wonderful  666 
without  any  risk  of  driving  ourselves  mad  by  the  pro- 
cess.    What  is  the  gain  and  the  loss  ?    We  have  to 
admit  that  the  prophecy,  like  most  others,  went  wrong 
when  it  began  to  deal  with  the  future.     We  have  to 
admit  that  the  Almighty  did  not  propose  a  strange 
series  of  puzzles,  of  which  nobody  ever  has  or  ever  will 
be  able  to  make  head  or  tail.     The  necessity  of  that 
assumption  only  arises  when  we  assume,  in  contra- 
diction to  all  experience,  that  a  prediction  must  have 
been  fulfilled  allegorically  because  it  was  certainly  not 
fulfilled  according  to  its  plain  meaning.     We  gain  a 
most  striking  illustration  of  the  state  of  mind  of  the 
race  among  which  Christianity  was  being  founded  : 
of  the  fierce  fanaticism  which  animated  the  Jews  in 
the  horrors  of  the  siege  of  Jerusalem  ;   and  of  the 
nature  of  the  behef  in  the  advent  of  a  Messiah,  which 
formed  so  important  an  element  in  the  new  religion. 
So  read,  the  book  ceases  to  be  a  preposterous  enigma, 
and  becomes  a  startling  revelation  of  thoughts  and 
aspirations,  most  strange  in  themselves,  and  yet  most 


t^m-mf^mm^wmmmm 


THE   SCEPTICISM   OF  BELIEVERS 


61 


important   to  an   understanding  of  the  greatest   of 
religious  revolutions. 

Or  we  may  observe  how  a  simple  adoption  of  the 
historical  attitude  of  mind  brings  out  the  figure  of  the 
Apostle  of  the  Gentiles.     It  has  been  the  interest  of 
orthodox  interpreters  of  all  sects  to  slur  over  the  great 
struggle  which  made  Christianity  a   world   religion. 
Peter  and   Paul,  as  the  author  of  the  Acts  already 
tried  to  make  out,  were  completely  at  one,  as   how 
should  they  be  otherwise  if  both  were  channels  of  the 
same  Holy  Ghost  ?    Beading  Paul's  epistles  without 
first   carefully  blinding   our   eyes,  we   can   see   how 
desperate  was  the  struggle  between  the  Jewish  and 
the   Gentile  Christians  ;   what  efforts  it  cost  to  dis- 
engage the  Christian  theology  of  later  days  from  the 
swaddling-clothes  whicli  first  hampered  it  in  Palestine  ; 
and  how  singular  a  mixture  of  theories  struggles  in 
the  argumentation  of  the  Apostle,  illogical,  perplexed, 
and  occasionally  shocking,  but  yet  showing  the  firmest 
of  world-shaping  beliefs.     Accept  every  utterance  as 
that  of  a  Divine  authority,  and  we  are  forced  to  shut 
our  eyes  to  all  that  gives  them  a  true  human  interest, 
and  to  see  the  enunciation  of  pure,  absolute  truth  in 
the  most  confused  and  desperate  struggle  of  conflict- 
ing theories  that  ever  agitated   a  great  but  still  an 
eminently  human  mind.     Or  consider  what  a  blindness 
is  necessary  to  read  the  Gospel  of  St.  John  after  the 
old  fashion,  as  a  genuine  story  of  an  eyewitness,  instead 
of  a  series  of  mystical  declamations  representing  the 


62 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


influx  of  a  theosophical  theory.  To  the  orthodox, 
Christianity  is  something  dropped  out  of  the  infinite, 
with  no  affinity  to  existing  thoughts  or  real  explana- 
tion from  the  conditions  of  the  time.  To  the  reader 
who  will  place  himself  at  the  historical  point  of  view, 
it  is  the  product  of  all  the  social  and  moral  and 
intellectual  forces  of  the  time ;  its  origin  must  be 
studied  in  the  vast  political  and  social  changes 
implied  in  the  foundation  of  the  Koman  Empire  and 
in  the  developments  of  Greek  philosophy,  mixed  with 
Jewish  tradition,  as  well  as  in  the  development  of 
the  Jewish  nation  itself.  Briefly,  the  orthodox 
hypothesis,  so  far  as  it  is  accepted,  eflectually  cuts  off 
every  real  human  interest  from  the  contemplation  of 
the  greatest  drama  ever  played  upon  the  stage  of  the 
world. 

The  sum  or  kernel  of  all  these  difficulties  appears 
in  our  view  of  the  central  character  of  the  history. 
You  still  cling  to  the  conception  of  a  Godman.  It  is 
needless  to  do  more  than  allude  to  all  the  hopeless 
struggles  of  the  human  intellect  trying  to  reconcile 
itself  to  such  a  conception.  Take  Christ  for  a  man, 
exemplifying  all  the  laws  of  human  nature,  which  are 
as  much  verified  by  the  most  exceptional  as  by  the 
most  ordinary  example,  and  what  do  you  lose  ?  Is 
the  moral  beauty  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount 
diminished  or  aff'ected  in  the  smallest  degree  by 
the  fact  that  it  came  from  human  lips  ?  Truth  is 
truth,  and  beauty,  beauty,  whatever  its  source.     But 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF   BELIEVERS 


63 


at  every  stage  of  the  life,  the  attempt  to  identify  a 
human  being  with  the  Author  of  all  Nature  only  leads 
to  hopeless  incoherence.  The  logical  result  is  surely 
that  of  the  early  heretics,  condemned,  like  other  hereti- 
cal results,  because  it  was  so  obviously  logical — that  the 
human  Christ  was  a  phantasm.  Think  only  of  the 
last  words  on  the  Cross,  as  reported  in  the  Gospel 
according  to  St.  Matthew :  '  My  God,  My  God,  why 
hast  Thou  forsaken  Me?'  Nothing  can  be  more 
terribly  pathetic  if  we  read  it  as  the  despairing 
utterance  of  a  martyr  yielding  at  the  last  moment 
to  a  hideous  doubt.  But  if  it  be  taken  as  the 
utterance  of  a  Divine  being,  what  can  we  make  of  it  ? 
I  will  not  give  the  obvious  answer. 

I  can  only  hint  at  a  truth  which  is  gradually 
coming  to  be  appreciated.  The  Bible  has  been  made 
an  idol,  and  therefore  made  grotesque.  The  faith 
which  accepts  its  absurdities  as  divine  is  destructive 
of  the  human  interest.  A  strong  faith  of  that  stamp 
really  means  a  dull  imagination.  The  livelier 
the  imaginative  faculty,  the  firmer  the  grasp  of  the 
vital  laws  of  the  world.  Monsters  m  art,  centaurs 
and  angels,  are  proofs  that  their  creators  did  not 
really  see  the  human  being,  but  only  his  outside. 
The  grotesque  in  art  and  religion  is  merely  a  proof 
that  the  infantile  imagination  has  no  grasp  of  realities. 
Floods  drowning  the  world,  rivers  turned  to  blood, 
and  the  sun  standing  still  to  light  a  massacre,  are  toys 
of  an  arbitrary  fancy,  which  can  join   incongruities 


64 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


without  a  sense  of  absurdity.     The  imagination   of 
the  trained  and  powerful  intellect  which  makes  the 
past  present  rejects  the  absurdity,  because  it  perceives 
the  true  forces  which  worked  three  thousand  years 
ago  as  they  work  now ;  and  in  that  perception  is  the 
true  source  of  all  genuine  interest  in  the  past.     To 
make  history  historical  is  the  problem  of  the  time, 
and  we  need  not  fear  that  history  will  be  the  loser. 
But  this  is  only  one  illustration  of  confusions  which 
still  perplex  popular  thought.     Historically  speaking, 
Jehovah  was  developed  into  the  God  of  the  Jewish 
Prophets,  and  has  since  been  developed  into  the  God 
of   Spinoza.      The    continuity    of    the   process   has 
concealed   the   monstrous    absurdity    of    identifying 
the   two.     On  such  strange  assumptions   the   world 
becomes   chaos,   and   therefore   scepticism  the   only 
rational  frame  of  mind.     Hume  long  ago  pointed  out 
that  the  heathens  saw  their  god  in  the  interruptions  to 
order,  while  philosophers  see  God  in  the  preservation 
of  order.     The  ordinary  mind  placidly  combines  the 
two  views,  and  smooths  over  obvious  difficulties  by 
logical   sleight  of   hand   too   familiar    to   be   worth 
examination.     It  has  been  argued  by  orthodox  writers 
that  the  heathen  were  really  Atheists  because  their 
gods   were  merely  particular  individuals,    not    the 
Supreme    Being.       Is    not    the    argument    equally 
applicable  against  anyone  who,  believing  in  the  God 
of  philosophy,  persists  in  identifying  him  with   the 
old  Hebrew  deity  ?    Is  it  theism  or  atheism  to  hold 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


65 


that  the  ruler  of  the  universe  is  the  strange  being 
who  met  Moses  and  his  wife  at  an  inn,  and  tried  to 
kill  their  son  ?    Metaphysicians  have  asked  us  to  ac- 
cept Jehovah's  vagaries  on  the  ground  that  the  motives 
of  the  Absolute  and  Infinite  Being  are  necessarily 
inconceivable.    Jehovah,  unluckily,  is  only  too  easily 
conceivable.    Whether  his  existence  be  credible  is 
another  question.     But  so  long  as   such  tricks  of 
logical  fence  are  put  forward  as  serious,  one  thmg,  at 
least,  is  evident.     History  is  a  chaos.    A  belief  in  God 
is  asserted  to  be  the  one  source  of  true  happiness  and 
morality.    But,  on  the  older  hypothesis,  this  belief  is 
only  accessible  through  inspiration.     It   is  dropped 
into  the  world  at  a  particular  place :  to  ask  why  that 
place  and    time  should  be  selected    is    simply   ir- 
rational, for  it  depends  upon  the  arbitrary  pleasure 
(arbitrary,   so   far    as    we    can    know)    of  the    in- 
comprehensible Being.     Through  countless  ages  that 
light  was   confined   to  a  single  tribe,  while  an  in- 
calculable majority  of  the  human  race  was  left  in 
utter  darkness,  and,  according  to  some  logical  persons, 
damned  for  not  seeing.    Even  since  the  light  has 
come,  it  has  not  yet  reached   a   third  part  of  the 
human  race.     It  is  so  far  from  being  clear,  that  it  has 
formed  one  main  obstacle  to  the  spread  of  scientific 
truth  ;  and  so  far  from  regenerating  mankind,  that  they 
have  seen  it  only  to  relapse  into  infidelity,  materialism, 
and  atheism.     To  give  any  sort  of  theory  of  this  force 
is  to  transgress  the  limits  of  the  human  intellect ;  and 


M^H 


i^ 


66 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


yet  it  is  the  one  force  upon  which  our  temporary  and 
eternal  welfare  depends.  The  human  mind,  indeed, 
has  revolted  against  such  doctrines.  They  are  denied, 
I  am  glad  to  say,  by  modern  divines  as  emphatically 
as  I  could  deny  them  myself.  The  Deity  whom  good 
men  revere  to-day  is  not  the  savage,  jealous  tyrant  of 
ancient  times,  nor  the  cruel  persecutor  of  error  and 
protector  of  favourites  who  is  now  accepted  by  the 
most  ignorant  and  belated  minds.  The  gods  of  the 
heathen  were  not  devils,  but  faint  reflections  of  the 
true  Deity.  The  world  outside  the  sacred  circle  of 
Judaism  or  Christianity  was  still  under  a  provi- 
dential guidance  ;  the  heathens  and  heretics  whom 
Dante  still  kept  out  of  heaven  may  now  obtain 
admission,  though  not,  perhaps,  as  of  legal  right. 
All  this  and  much  more  may  be  said  for  intelligent 
theologians  who  cannot  bear  to  abandon,  but  do  their 
best  to  elevate,  the  old  phrases.  I  only  suggest 
that  they  might  show  a  little  more  gratitude  to  the 
deists  and  sceptics  who  have  forced  them  to  learn  the 
lesson.  The  higher  point  of  view— no  one  worth 
notice  will  deny  it  to  be  the  higher— is  gained  pre- 
cisely by  approximation  to  the  Agnostic.  So  long  as 
the  miraculous  is  admitted,  we  admit  the  arbitrary. 
Belief  in  the  supernatural  is  the  belief  in  a  duahstic 
theory,  in  an  established  order  liable  to  spasmodic 
and  inexpHcable  interferences  from  without.  Since, 
then,  supernatural  is  divine,  it  is  just  the  force  which 
works  for  the  good   which  is  intrinsically  incom- 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


67 


prehensible.     The  wind  bloweth   where  it    listeth. 
The  huge,  blind,  God-forsaken  world  blunders  on  in 
its  own  way,  but  here  and  there  a  flash  from  a  world 
beyond  enlightens   a   man  or  a  race,  and  forms  a 
divine  province  in  an  empire  of  chaos.     To  get  rid 
of  this  doctrine  is  to  get  rid  of  the  supernatural ;  to 
admit  that  the  religions  of  the  world  are  all  more  or 
less  faulty  and  more  or  less  successful  attempts  of  the 
race  to  form  a  theory  of  the  world  suitable  for  its 
guidance;   and   that   all   progress,   moral,  social,  or 
religious,  is  due  to  the  working  of  natural  instincts, 
the  epithet  being  not  superfluous  only  because  it  is 
necessary  to  exclude  the  supernatural.     Allowing  this, 
all  history  becomes  continuous  and  intelligible.     Here 
is  no  mysterious   intrusion  of  internal  forces  im- 
pinging upon  the  world  from  no  one  knows  where ; 
no  truth  revealed  in  one  longitude    and    latitude, 
and    hidden    from    others    in    proportion    to    their 
distance  ;  and  no  order  which  is  not  the  work  of  the 
men  who  are  at  once  the  product  and  producers  of 
society.    After  admitting  this,  you  may,  as  you  please, 
call  the  whole  *  divine '  or  *  natural.'     But  the  essential 
point  is  the  unification  of  principle  which   excludes 
all  supernatural  intrusions,  and  which,  by  affording 
solid  ground  for  scientific  reasoning,  gives  the  only 
basis  unassailable  by  a  mischievous  scepticism. 

If  history  is  a  chaos,  so  long  as  one  main  factor  in 
history  is  taken  to  be  the  arbitrary  or  supernatural, 
what  are  we  to  say  of  the  science  of  which  history  is 

F  2 


R^»"M«4av" 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


69 


68 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


the  embodiment  ?    What  kind  of  a  psychology  must 
be  constructed  upon  the  lines  thus  laid  down  ?    You 
believe  that  Christ  was  God  incarnate  ;  I  hold  that  He 
was  a  human  being.     Your  most  respectable  argument 
is  from  the  moral  qualities  manifested  in  His  works 
and  words.     You  regard  them  as  so  exceptional  that 
the  difference  between  Christ  and  other  men  is  only 
explicable  by  the  intrusion  of  the  supernatural  power 
—nay,  of  an  infinite  power.     He  is  not  merely  excep- 
tional as  a  Shakespeare  or   a   Newton  may   be  ex- 
ceptional, but  so  exceptional  that   the   existence  of 
such  a  man  is  inconceivable.     His  character  implies, 
not  an  extreme  case  of  the  laws  of  human  nature,  but 
something  for  which  those  laws  would  be  utterly  un- 
able to  account.     The  difference  between  the  highest 
and  the  lowest  of  human  beings — nay,  the  difference 
between  man  and  beast,  must  surely  be  an  inadequate 
measure  of  the  difference  between  the  divine  and  the 
human.     I,  on  the  contrary,  hold  that  Christ  was  a 
man,  and  so  far  havesurely  a  higher  opinion  of  human 
nature  than  you.     I  regard  the  character  of  Christ  as 
within  the  range  of  human  possibilities.     The  power 
of  love  and   self-sacrifice,  the  simplicity  and  charm 
of  the  character  are  such,  I  hold,  as  may  be,  and  have 
been   exemplified   in  other  men  in  varying  degrees. 
Why  should  1  be  forced  to  postulate  an  incarnation  of 
deity  to  account  for  goodness,  even  in  a  superlative 
degree  ?    Your  answer  has  been  often  given  by  theo- 
logians.    It  is,  simply,  that  human  nature  is  corrupt 


and  virtue  supernatural.  Christ  is  the  type  of  the 
perfect  man,  indeed,  and  a  type,  one  would  think, 
should  embody  qualities  possible  at  least  to  the  race. 
But  the  answer  is  that  man  can  only  approximate  to 
this  type  by  supernatural  aid.  Human  nature  is  the 
residuum  left  when  all  good  impulses  are  supposed  to 
come  from  without.  The  heart  is  deceitful  above  all 
things,  and  desperately  wicked.  From  ourselves  come 
nothing  but  lust,  hatred,  and  the  love  of  darkness. 
Certainly,  therefore,  humanity  cannot  produce  a  Christ 
— nor  even  a  decent  member  of  society.  Where  we 
find  purity,  love,  or  heroism,  we  may  be  sure  that  they 
cannot  have  sprung  upon  mortal  soil.  They  must 
have  been  transplanted  from  a  supernatural  paradise  ; 
sporadic  plants,  which  have  strayed  beyond  the  guarded 
walls  of  Eden,  and  can  only  struggle  against  the  foul 
indigenous  products  by  the  constant  care  of  the  Divine 
gardener.  Our  need  for  supernatural  aid  is  measured 
by  our  sense  of  human  impotence.  The  doctrine  of 
the  corruption  of  human  nature  is,  therefore,  a  central 
fact  in  the  most  vigorous  theology.  The  belief  in 
God  is,  so  far,  simply  the  opposite  pole  of  disbelief  in 
man.  They  are  reciprocal  dogmas,  allied  as  the 
light  and  the  shadow.  The  various  doctrines  of 
redemption  and  atonement  are  realised  in  proportion 
as  this  belief  is  held,  and  die  away  as  it  grows  faint. 
And,  so  far,  the  belief  in  a  supernatural  religion  is 
the  other  side  of  a  disbelief  in  all  human  virtue, 
which  does  not  repose  on  a  supernatural  basis,  and 


70 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


is  not  enlightened  by  Rupernatural  revelation  and 
stimulated  by  hopes  and  fears  to  be  realised  in  a 
supernatural  world. 

Undoubtedly  this  interpretation  melts  into  other 
theological  doctrines  which  sometimes  express  the 
very  reverse.  For  the  higher  conceptions  of  the  Divine 
Being  suppose  His  co-operation  to  be  constant  in  such 
a  sense  that  we  can  hardly  distinguish  the  statement 
that  virtue  is  supernatural  from  the  statement  that 
it  is  natural.  It  may  then  seem  to  become  little  more 
than  a  question  of  words.  If  man  is  not  good  by 
nature,  and  yet  God,  who  is  Nature,  is  always  ready 
to  make  him  good,  it  is  rather  hard  to  distinguish  the 
provinces  of  grace  and  Nature.  The  mention  of  this, 
indeed,  is  enough  to  indicate  how  much  scepticism 
really  lurks  in  the  theological  point  of  view.  The  end- 
less and  radically  insoluble  controversies  as  to  the 
relations  between  nature  and  grace  are  a  sufficient 
proof  that  upon  this  cardinal  point  of  the  system 
anything  like  rational  agreement  is  impossible.  The 
knot  cannot  be  untied,  though  it  may  be  cut.  It  has 
perplexed  all  the  greatest  theologians  since  it  brought 
St.  Paul  into  hopeless  confusion  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Komans,  and  has  not  been  solved,  though  it  has  passed 
pretty  much  out  of  the  sphere  of  living  interest.  It 
is  one  more  proof  of  the  hopeless  perplexity  caused 
by  the  introduction  of  an  arbitrary  term  into  contro- 
versy, and  the  utter  impossibiUty  of  drawing  any 
clear  distinction  between  the  Divine  and  the  natural. 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


71 


» 


From  the  anthropomorphic  point  of  view  or  the 
pantheistic  you  may  come  to  some  definite  conclusion, 
but  when  the  point  of  view  shifts  from  one  to  the 
other,  and  God  is  sometimes  synonymous  with  Nature 
and  sometimes  with  an  intrusive  agent,  the  result 
must  be  intellectual  chaos,  and  chaos  is  the  correlative 
of  scepticism. 

Is  the  coherence  of  our  moral  convictions  bound 
up,  as  theologians  assert,  with  the  preservation  of 
theological  dogma,  or  is  it  true,  here  as  elsewhere, 
that  the  attempt  to  get  to  the  transcendental  must 
land  us  in  a  vacuum,  where  there  is  no  foundation 
for  any  settled  belief?  Let  me  briefly  recapitulate 
the  Agnostic's  position.  He  wishes,  if  he  deserves  to 
be  taken  at  his  word,  to  place  morality  on  a  scientific 
basis.  He  must,  therefore,  begin  by  rejecting  one  main 
contention  of  the  theologian.  He  must  get  rid  of  the 
whole  scheme  of  thought  which  asserts  the  necessity 
of  a  belief  outside  the  scope  of  scientific  inquiry. 
Morality,  like  the  political  sciences,  must  be  placed 
upon  an  inductive  basis,  or  be  on  the  same  plane  with 
those  truths  which,  if  fully  ascertainable,  would  form 
the  science  of  '  sociology.'  We  may  determine,  within 
limits,  what  are  the  laws  of  growth  of  the  social 
organism  and  the  conditions  imposed  by  its  environ- 
ment. We  can  see  what  are  the  instincts  which 
contribute  to  its  development  and  stability,  and  what, 
consequently,  are  the  laws  which,  if  recognised  and 
accepted,  will  contribute  to  its  health.     To  lay  them 


N  <*.^  »t.. 


^#i 


72 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


down  is  to  construct  the  moral  code.  This,  indeed, 
is  practicable,  because  the  race  has  in  fact  been  en- 
gaged from  its  origin  in  feeling  out  the  rules  essential 
to  its  welfare.  They  have  neither  been  imported  from 
without  nor  deduced  from  abstract  speculation.  Men 
have  discovered  that  murder  is  injurious  to  society,  as 
they  have  discovered  that  intoxication  is  prejudicial 
to  health — by  trying  the  experiment  on  a  large  scale. 
The  so-called  intuitions  have  no  supernatural  character, 
but  are  assumptions  verifiable  by  experience,  as  they 
are  the  embodiment  of  past  experience.  In  their 
main  outlines  they  are  as  much  beyond  the  reach  of 
confutation  as  any  of  our  primary  beliefs.  They  are 
as  certain,  when  regarded  as  statements  of  the  con- 
ditions of  social  welfare,  as  are  the  assertions  about 
the  conditions  of  individual  welfare ;  as  the  opinions 
that  men  are  mortal,  that  fire  burns,  that  water 
drowns,  that  certain  foods  are  poisonous,  and  that 
jumping  over  a  cliff  is  likely  to  shorten  life.  We  can  see 
how  the  development  of  society  is  conditioned  by,  and 
tends  in  turn  to  stimulate  the  growth  of,  the  higher 
instincts,  which  are  inexplicable  within  the  limits  of 
individual  experience.  We  can  see  how  their  growth 
is  interwoven  with  the  growth  of  the  intellectual  and 
emotional  nature,  and  determine  the  conditions 
favourable  to  their  strength.  We  are  thus  enabled  to 
consider  by  what  means  the  rules  deduced  from  social 
welfare  may  be  incorporated  with  the  rules  for  indi- 
vidual welfare.     The  Agnostic  has,  of  course,  to  admit 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


73 


that  anti-social  instincts  exist,  and  will  exist  for  some 
time  to  come.  He  does  not  believe  in  the  dogma  of 
*  corruption,'  in  the  incapacity  of  the  race  to  improve 
itself — for  all  history,  upon  his  view,  testifies  to  its 
power  of  gradual  self- elevation.  But  he  must,  like 
everyone  else,  recognise  the  slowness  and  the  difiiculty 
of  the  operation.  Evil  can  only  be  kept  down  by 
strenuous  activity,  though  an  activity  more  sure  of 
success  as  it  becomes  more  enlightened  and  farseeing. 
The  guarantee  for  success  is  just  the  fact  that  a 
vigorous  morality  is  by  its  nature  one  aspect  of  a 
strong  vitality.  Since  the  social  instincts  are  in  the 
strictest  sense  natural,  since  they  strengthen  and 
adapt  themselves  to  the  growing  needs  of  society,  and 
survive  the  decay  of  the  multitudinous  creeds  in 
which  they  have  been  partially  incorporated,  he  may 
reasonably  hope  that  the  upward  progress  of  man- 
kind will  continue,  and  may  even  be  accelerated.  As 
the  race  becomes  more  intelligent  and  more  distinctly 
conscious  of  its  aims,  the  victory  will  become  more 
certain,  and  be  won  at  a  smaller  cost. 

The  moral  progress  in  which  we  believe  has  of 
course  shown  itself  in  the  religious  convictions  of 
mankind.  The  gods  have  been  reformed  as  well  as 
their  worshippers.  It  is  true  that  they  normally  lag 
rather  behind  the  age  in  virtue  of  their  conservative 
tendencies.  They  represent  the  morality  of  yesterday 
rather  than  the  morality  of  to-morrow.  But  only  a 
bigot  will  deny  the  utility  of  conservatism,  and  the 


■  irTTJ 


74 


THE   SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


attempts  to  widen  and  improve  a  moral  law  may  some- 
times appear  as  revolutionary  attacks  upon  the  law 
itself.  There  is  a  value,  therefore,  in  the  retarding 
force,  though  it  is  apt  to  condemn  its  natural  op- 
ponents as  the  agents  of  diabolical  degeneration. 
We  should  not  retort  the  injustice,  nor  refuse  to 
acknowledge  that  the  religions  of  to-day  preach  a 
morality  generally  sound  in  substance,  however  they 
may  misconceive  its  origin.  In  this,  as  in  other 
questions,  the  opponents  of  progress  have  been  really 
saturated  by  the  ideas  of  which  they  failed  to  recognise 
the  truth,  and  can  put  the  substance  of  the  evolu- 
tionist doctrine  into  theological  terminology.  The 
essential  difference  depends  upon  the  admission  or  the 
exclusion  of  the  supernatural ;  that  is,  upon  the 
question  whether  the  Divine  element  is  to  be  identified 
with  the  natural  order,  or  represents  an  intrusive  and 
arbitrary  interference ;  whether  we  are  or  are  not  to 
accept  a  dualism  in  which  the  world  is  the  scene  of 
conflict  of  two  radically  opposed  powers,  one  of  them 
nominally  or  *  potentially  '  Almighty,  but  in  point  of 
fact  encountered  and  often  checkmated  by  its  base 
opponent.  So  long  as  we  are  in  the  old  position,  the 
very  basis  of  ethical  theory  is  insecure.  It  is  laid  in 
the  clouds,  not  on  the  solid  earth.  Morality  is  supposed 
to  be  binding  because  based  on  the  will  of  God  ;  but  of 
what  God  ?  The  gods  of  the  heathen  were  unpleasantly 
like  devils.  They  sanctioned  *  hate,  revenge,  and  lust.' 
The  Devil,  indeed,  is  simply  a  deposed  deity,  or  the 


\ 


-Till 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


75 


product  of  a  process  of  differentiation  dating  back 
from  a  period  at  which  there  was  no  perceptible 
distinction.  If  we  listen  to  the  mutual  recrimina- 
tions of  theologians,  we  must  admit  that  this  rather 
important  contrast  has  not  even  yet  been  made 
so  clear  as  might  be  wished.  We  are  told,  for 
example,  by  one  set  of  very  enthusiastic  believers, 
that  the  God  of  Calvinism,  in  his  most  pronounced 
attributes,  has  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  Evil  One, 
although  we  are  also  told  that  he  represents  merely 
the  explicit  and  logical  recognition  of  a  doctrine  really 
held  by  the  loftiest  theologians.  In  any  case,  it  is 
clear  that  the  sound  theory  of  morality  can  only  be 
deduced  from  the  sound  theology.  The  moral  law, 
then,  must  be  based  on  the  will  of  the  true  God.  But 
the  phrase  at  once  suggests  the  infinite  jumble  of 
chaotic  controversy  which  has  no  issue  because  it 
belongs  essentially  to  the  region  of  the  arbitrary. 
There  is  no  ethical  doctrine  which  may  not  assert 
itself  in  theological  language.  Are  actions  right 
because  God  wills  them,  or  does  God  will  them  be- 
cause they  are  right  ?  If  because  God  wills  them,  how 
are  we  to  know  His  will  ?  If  for  antecedent  reasons, 
then  must  not  reason,  instead  of  the  Divine  will,  be 
the  true  gi'ound  of  morals?  There  are  theological 
utilitarians  and  theological  intuitionists.  One  theo- 
logian holds  that  a  direct  revelation  was  necessary 
for  the  discovery  of  the  moral  law;  another,  that 
morality  is  a  science  of  observation,  and  that  God 


76 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


merely  assigns  as  its  end  the  greatest  happiness  of 
the  greatest  number.     A  third  holds  that  morality  is 
deducible  from  pure  reason,  and  that  revelation  and 
experience  are  alike  superfluous.     On  one  system,  the 
essence   of   morality  is   the  proclamation   of  future 
rewards  and  punishments.     On  another,  the  unselfish 
love  of  God  is   the  only  foundation  of  true   virtue, 
which  is  a  sham  so  far  as  it  is  adulterated  by  any 
admixture  of  personal  interests.     To  one  theologian 
the  virtues  of  the  heathen  are  but  splendid  vices, 
while  another  sees  in  them  proofs  of  the  universality 
of  Divine  influence.     One  argues  that  all  natural  im- 
pulses are  good  because  Nature  is  the  w^ork  of  God, 
and  his  opponent  replies  that  all  Nature  is  under  a 
curse,  and  man's  heart  corrupt  to   the   core.      The 
foundation  of  one   system  is   that   God  desires   the 
happiness  of  man  in  this  world  ;  and  another  declares 
all  human  happiness  to  be  an  illusion.    One  holds  asce- 
ticism to  be  simple  folly  ;  another  thinks  it  the  shortest 
road  to  heaven.     The  antinomian  thinks  that  as  God 
has  once  for  all  elected  or  rejected  him,  his  actions  are 
of  no  importance;   and  the  sacerdotalist  holds  that 
by  accumulating  active  observances  he  can  estabhsh 
an  indefeasible  claim  upon  his  Creator.     One  thinks 
it  blasphemous  against  God's  omnipotence  to  claim 
any  share  in  the  work  of  salvation  ;  another  considers 
it  an  insult  to  God  to  suppose  that  salvation  will  not 
be  conceded  to  good  works.    One  sees  in  the  goodness 
of  God  an  assurance  that  all  men  will  be  ultimately 


THE   SCEPTICISM   OF   BELIEVERS 


77 


happy,  and  another  infers  from  His  justice  that  the 
vast  majority  will  be  doomed  to  endless  torture. 

It  is  true  that  such  contradictions  matter  less 
than  would  appear  at  first  sight.  Somehow  or  other, 
metaphysicians  have  a  wonderful  facility  for  deducing 
the  same  conclusions  from  the  most  opposite  pre- 
misses. That  is,  perhaps,  because  metaphysics  is 
not  really  what  it  professes  to  be,  the  exposition  of 
first  principles,  from  which  the  inferior  truths  are 
deducible,  but  an  attempt  to  give  explicitly  the  logic 
of  the  processes  already  employed  by  the  common - 
sense  of  mankind.  Professing  to  make  no  assump- 
tion, it  really  assumes  all  previous  knowledge.  At 
any  rate,  we  have  the  comfort  of  believing  that  ethical 
rules  have  little  dependence  upon  theories  of  moral 
philosophy.  I  only  mean  to  urge  that  the  assump- 
tions of  theology  in  general,  even  if  they  be  granted, 
land  us  in  inextricable  labyrinths  of  dialectics.  No 
doctrine  seems  to  me  to  be  less  tenable  than  that 
which  asserts  that  morality  requires  a  theological 
foundation.  To  connect  ethics  with  theology  of  the 
lower  type  is,  in  fact,  to  define  it  as  obedience  to  the 
will  of  an  arbitrary  being,  who  may  be  the  reflection 
of  some  barbarous  ideal,  or  who  may  be  a  meta- 
physical entity  indistinguishable  from  the  abstract 
Nature.  It  is  a  long  way  from  crude  anthropomorph- 
ism to  that  bloodless  spectre  of  a  theological  mo- 
rality which  appears,  for  example,  in  the  *  categorical 
imperative '  of  Kant.    Kant's  moral  law  is  a  command 


78 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


which  survives  mysteriously  when   the  giver  of  the 
command  has  evaporated.     In  their  anxiety  to  get 
rid  of  the  '  expedient '  and  *  empirical,'  philosophers 
remove  the  law  to  a  region  where  it  has  no  relation  to 
facts.    It  becomes  mere   'law'  in  the  abstract,  of 
which  it  is  the  only  condition  that  it  shall  not  be  self- 
contradictory,  and  which  is,  therefore,  equally  appli- 
cable  to  any  set  of  rules  whatever.     The  essence  of 
morality  becomes  merely  a  logical  formula,  and  is  lit 
only  for  a  state  of  things  in  which  fact  can  be  woven 
out  of  syllogism,  and  the  loom  at  which  the  universe 
is  wrought  can  be   worked  in  a  professor's  lecture- 
room.     Such  philosophy,  though  it  still  calls  itself 
theistic,  is  the  very  antithesis  of  the  old   doctrine 
which  goes  by  the  same  name.    In  the  primitive  stage, 
morality  is  the  law  given  by  a  particular  being  known 
under  definite  historical  conditions.   To  get  rid  of  the 
arbitrary  and  empirical  element  we  substitute  a  being 
who  inhabits  the  region  of  the  inconceivable,  and  of 
whom  we  cannot  think  directly  without  falling  into 
hopeless  antinomies.     Instead  of  the  arbitrary  and 
particular,  we  have  the  hopelessly  vague  and   un- 
intelligible.     The  true  method   of  escape  is  surely 
different.     Morality  must  be  represented  as  dependent, 
not  upon  the  authority  of  a  particular  person,  in- 
visible   or  otherwise,  nor  relegated    to  the  region 
where  we  are  hopelessly  suspended  in  the  inane,  but 
based  upon  a  knowledge  of  the  concrete  constitution 
of  human  nature  and  society. 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


79 


To  make  a  moral  law  otherwise  than  from  a  study 
of  human  life  will  be  possible  when  it  is  possible  on 
the  same  terms  to  construct  a  physiology  and  a  system 
of  therapeutics  ;  and  meanwhile  it  remains  in  ethics 
what  the  attempt  to  square  the  circle  is  in  the  history 
of  mathematics.  The  charge  against  the  Agnostic, 
that  he  weakens  his  belief  in  morality  because  he 
brings  it  within  the  sphere  of  experience,  is  just  as 
true  as  would  be  the  same  charge  against  the  man  of 
science,  who  appeals  to  facts  instead  of  evolving  the 
facts  from  the  depths  of  his  consciousness. 

The  theologian  occasionally  shows  a  leaning  to 
such  transcendental  theories,  though  he  ought  to 
know  that  their  inevitable  catastrophe  is  in  a  reduc- 
tion of  theology  to  pantheism.  But  the  theology 
which  can  appeal  to  the  imagination  remains  at  some 
intermediate  stage  between  the  purely  anthropo- 
morphic and  the  purely  metaphysical.  The  doctrine 
of  another  world  of  which,  as  of  all  matters  of  fact, 
the  absolute  system  of  morality  must  be  independent, 
is  still  for  him  the  pivot  of  morals.  It  is  in  rejecting 
this  part  of  the  doctrine  that  the  *  scepticism  '  or 
positive  unbelief  of  the  Agnostic  is  most  keenly  de- 
nounced. Once  more,  which  is  the  sceptic  ?  The 
early  Christians,  like  the  modern  Socialists,  dreamed 
of  a  speedy  advent  of  the  millennium  ;  a  faith  flushed 
with  excessive  confidence,  and  capable  of  transforming, 
if  not  of  regenerating,  society,  naturally  generates  such 
visions.     Modern  Socialists  generally  assign  the  next 


80 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


81 


century  as  the  period  at  which  we  shall  all  have 
achieved  Utopia.     The  Christian  held  that  his  genera- 
tion would  not  pass  away  before  the  Messiah  was 
revealed  in   supernatural  glory.     The  behef  was  in 
harmony  with  his  whole  theory  of  the  world.     His 
hopes  naturally  pointed  to  dreamland— to  a  world  of 
catastrophes  and   surprises.     Everything  was  to  be 
changed  in  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  at 
the  sound  of  a    supernatural    trumpet.     The    true 
believers  were  to  be  caught  up  into  heaven,  and  set 
upon   the  thrones  provided  for  them,  and  the  un- 
believers to  be  cast  into  the  sea  of  fire  and  brimstone. 
The  world  had  been,  and  might  be  again,  the  scene  of 
tremendous  and  spasmodic  convulsions,  to  be  antici- 
pated only  in  virtue  of  supernatural  revelation.    God 
had  sent  His  Son  upon  earth  to  reveal  the  one  true 
light,  and  suddenly  to  establish   a  Divine  kingdom. 
Ages  have  passed,  and  faith  has  grown  dim,  and  the 
prophecies  and  revelations  have  had  to  be  twisted 
and  spiritualised,  and  have  slowly  sunk  into  enigmas 
to  exercise  the  fertile  ingenuity  of  learned  folly.     The 
belief  in  the  Second  Advent  has  faded  into  inanity, 
although,  like  certain  men  of  Galilee,  some  may  still 
stand  gazing  into  heaven,  forgetting  the  solid  earth 
at  their  feet.     If  by  the  faith  which  is  to  save  the 
world  you  still  mean  faith  in  the  supernatural,  you 
still  hold  that  faith  comes  by  revelation,  or  by  an 
inexplicable  means  upon  incalculable  occasions.     And 
if  the  only  light  which  can  lighten  the  world  shines 


at  the  arbitrary  bidding  of  an  inscrutable  Being,  its 
occultations  are  equally  mysterious.     They  are  work- 
ings of  the  Devil,   whose  very  existence  in  a  God- 
governed  world  is  a  mystery.     Friday  asked  Eobinson 
Crusoe,  why  does  not  God  kill  the  Devil  ?  and  neither 
Eobinson  Crusoe  nor  anybody  else  has  hitherto  been 
able  to  answer  the  question.     The  spread  of  infidel 
opinions  is,  more  or  less,  supposed  to  be  the  work  of 
the  Devil.     But  why  the  Devil  should  suddenly  get 
into  the  pulpit,  and  why  his  preaching  should  be  so 
successful,     are    still    inscrutable    mysteries.      The 
showing  forth  of  the  light  and  its  obscuration  equally 
belong  to  the  region  where  the  human  intellect  has 
no  footing.     To  the  Agnostic,  even  the  spread  of  an 
error  is  part  of  the  wide-world  process  by  which  we 
stumble  into  mere  approximations   to  truth.     It  is 
explicable  from  the  necessities  of  the  case  that  partial 
illusions  should  arise  at  each  successive  stage  of  our 
onward  movement.     But  if  the  old  Faith  be  absolutely 
true,  and  also  dependent  on   the  catastrophe  of  a 
revelation,  the  whole  process  of  the  evolution  of  truth 
becomes  hopelessly  unintelligible.     The  new  ideas 
which  stir  the  intellectual   movement   of  the  world 
are  regarded  with  suspicion,  for  God  may  be  again 
leaving  the  field  to  the  Devil  as  it  was  left  of  old.     The 
corruption  of  our  nature  may  be  once  more  showing 
itself  and  getting  the  upper  hand.     Increase  of  know- 
ledge shakes  the  old  creeds,  and  increase  of  wealth 
shakes   the  old    structure.      The    sacred    authority 


G 


i 


82 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


decays,  and  the  orthodox  heliever  has  to  choose  between 
equivocating  and  straining  and  twisting  the  old 
phrases  to  a  new  meaning,  or  in  closer  conformity 
with  the  logic  of  his  belief,  announcing  that  the 
old  world  is  once  more  going  to  the  devil,  and  that 
the  evil  principle,  disguised  as  an  angel  of  intellectual 
light,  is  seducing  us  to  close  our  eyes  to  all  that  is 
elevating  and  purifying. 

This,  as  I  take  it,  is  the  scepticism  which  really 
underlies  the  theological  belief.     The  belief  in  pro- 
gress has  been  transferred  to  his  opponent,  for  the 
belief  in  progress  is  the  popular  version  of  the  doc- 
trine of  evolution.     The  doctrine  of  evolution  is  the 
uncompromising  application  to   all    phenomena    of 
history  and  thought  of  a  genuine  belief  in  causation, 
or  of  an  expulsion  of  the  arbitrary.     The  theologian, 
unless  he  elects  to  become  a  pantheist,  must  struggle 
against  a  mode  of  thought  which  runs  counter  to  his 
fundamental   assumptions.     The    scientific  reasoner 
holds  by  the  continuity  and  uniformity  of  Nature  ;  theo- 
logy accepts  a  dualism  which  implies  catastrophe  and 
the  interference  of  a  radically  unknowable  factor. 
Therefore,  the  belief  in  progress  which  substitutes 
a  development  of  natural  forces  for  a  Second  Advent, 
and  foresight  based  upon  knowledge  of  facts  for  a 
miraculous  prediction  of  the  mysterious,  is  essentially 
incongruous  to  theology.     The  theologian  abandons 
the  only  clue  which  can  lead  us  to  some  foresight  here 
in  the  attempt  to  find  a  certainty  in  the  clouds.  Faith 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVEE8 


83 


in  the  beyond  really  implies  scepticism  as  to  the  pre- 
sent, and  those  who  most  fervently  assert  their  belief  in 
an  omnipotent  and  perfect  Governor  of  the  world  are, 
therefore,  those  who  can  speak  most  bitterly  and  with 
the  least  hopefulness  of  the  world  which  He  governs. 
They  can  wrap  themselves  in  dreams  of  heaven,  and 
see  the  blind  masses  plunging,  possessed  of  devils, 
into  the  depths  of  destruction. 

The  belief  in  progress  has  its  own  delusions.     The 
Socialist  may  be  doomed  to  a  disappointment  like  that 
which  awaited  the  early  Christian.     The  Son  of  Man 
did  not  appear  in  the  clouds,  and  I  fear  that  it  will  be 
some  time  before   the  world  will  be  freed  from  all 
cruelty  and  injustice.     Yet  the  Socialist  dream   has 
the   advantage  that  it  points  to  an   end  not  by  its 
nature  unobtainable,  and  is  therefore  capable  orf  being 
pursued  with  some  hopes  of  slow  approximation.    We 
must,  perhaps,  admit   that  even  progress  cannot  be 
infinite.     After  some  millions  of  years  the  earth,  like 
its  satellite,  must  become  a  wandering  graveyard,  and 
men  and  their  dreams  will  in  that  case   vanish  to- 
gether.    Our  hopes,  like  most  things,  must  be  finite. 
We  must  be  content  if  they  are  enough  to  stimulate 
to    action.     We  must   believe  in  a  future  harvest 
enough  to  encourage  us  to  sow,  and  hold  that  honest 
and  unselfish  work  will  leave  the  world  rather  better 
off  than  we  found  it.     Perhaps  this  is  not  a  very 
sublime  prospect.     Life,    says   the   most   candid   of 
theologians — and  he  certainly  tried  to  prove  it — is, 

G   2 


84 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


perhaps,  but  a  poor  thing.  Yet  it  is  tolerable  so  long 
as  one  can  believe  that  our  fellow-men  have  enough 
of  healthy  and  noble  instinct  to  secure  a  steady,  if  a 
chequered,  social  growth  ;  that  their  instincts  do  not 
depend  upon  knowledge  of  the  unknowable,  and  will 
survive  our  petty  systems  founded  upon  irrational 
guesswork.  It  is  something  to  feel  a  confidence, 
based  upon  experience,  that  we  have  nothing  to  fear 
from  unlimited  inquiry  and  thoroughgoing  destruction 
of  fictions,  and  that  we  may  hope,  not  merely  for  an 
increased  power  of  man  over  Nature,  but  for  a  higher, 
more  rational,  social  order,  and  more  widely  extended 
sympathies.  Extension  of  knowledge  implies  also  a  more 
accurate  appreciation  of  the  conditions  of  human  wel- 
fare and  a  more  intelligent  cultivation  of  the  emotions 
and  sympathies  on  which  it  depends.  We  can  build 
without  fearing  that  any  infidel  Samson  will  suddenly 
crush  the  pillars  of  our  temple.  We  cannot  flatter  our- 
selves that  our  personal  stake  in  the  universe  is  more 
unlimited  in  regard  to  the  future  than  in  regard  to  the 
past  and  the  distant ;  but  that  reflection  may  be  rather 
consoling  than  otherwise  to  some  who  fancy  that  they 
and  the  universe  will  have  had  about  enough  of  each 
other  in  threescore  years  and  ten.  That  may  be  a 
matter  of  taste  ;  but  in  any  case,  when  we  see  daily  with 
more  clearness  that  all  intellectual  progress  involves  a 
systematic  interpretation  of  experience  and  a  resolute 
exclusion  of  all  imaginary  a  priori  data,  it  is  desirable 
that  we  should  look  in  the  direction  in  which  alone 


'^r  i^-W-ma 


THE  SCEPTICISM  OF  BELIEVERS 


85 


experience  can  enlighten  us,  and  accept  realities  in 
exchange  for  dreams.  Scepticism  about  the  shifting 
phantasmagoria  of  theology  is  less  paralysing  than 
the  scepticism  which,  when  it  speaks  frankly,  rejects 
realities,  and  when  it  does  not,  attempts  to  mystify  us 
by  a  jargon  which  hopelessly  confounds  the  two. 


noa 


■,?.— I'S 


L--.,,._:._j^^j ^. . 


86 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


87 


DEE  A  MS  AND  BEALITIES 

Strange  spectacles  meet  us  everywhere  in  a  period  of 
speculative  fermentation,  when  men's  thoughts  are 
heaving  and  working  they  know  not  why,  and  their 
minds,  like  those  of  half-aroused  sleepers,  are  unable 
to  distinguish  between  dreams  and  perceived  realities. 
Our  conceptions  of  the  unknown  world  are  naturally 
most  sensitive  to  every  change  of  belief.  They  grow 
fantastic  and  unsubstantial,  like  shadows  at  the  close  of 
day.  From  every  pulpit  we  hear  passionate  assertions 
of  the  transcendent  importance  and  enduring  vitality 
of  some  form  of  belief  in  a  future  life.  What  the 
belief  ought  to  be,  and  upon  what  logical  foundation 
it  should  be  based,  becomes  ever  more  uncertain.  In 
all  ages  there  has,  of  course,  been  a  vast  gap  between 
the  ostensible  creed  upon  such  matters,  and  that 
which  has  really  consistency  and  vividness  enough  to 
affect  men's  conduct.  Preachers  and  their  adversaries 
agree  as  to  the  matter  of  fact,  that  the  hopes  and  fears 
of  future  retribution  fail  to  exert  an  influence  upon 
the  ordinary  human  being  bearing  any  proportion  to 


the  greatness  of  their  object.  Whether  men's  intellects 
are  too  sceptical,  or  their  imaginations  too  sluggish, 
they  are  strangely  indifferent  to  the  most  tremendous 
threats  and  the  most  inspiring  promises. 

Such  a  phenomenon  has  never  been  otherwise  than 
normal.     The   only  remarkable   fact   about  modern 
sentiment  is  the  degree  in  which  the  language  used  by 
believers  betrays  the  absence  of  reasoned  grounds  of 
conviction  and  the  vacillating  and  indefinite  nature 
of  the  conception  obtained.     In  a  curious  discussion 
recently  published  in  the  *  Nineteenth  Century,'  one  of 
the  ablest  advocates  of  the  orthodox  position  said  that 
he  believed  *  because  he  was  told.'    As  he  was  arguing 
against  persons  who  told  him  not  to  believe,  this  was 
merely  another  way  of  saying  that  he  believed  because 
he  chose.     The  saying,  however,  was  but  an  epigram- 
matic avowal  of  the  inconclusiveness  of  the  ordinary 
argument  for  a  future  life.    That  argument  proceeds 
smoothly  so  long   as  it  is   simply  an  assault   upon 
materialism.    But  the  idealist  position  may  be  victori- 
ously established  without  leading  us  a  step  further. 
Hume  was   the  natural   development  of    Berkeley. 
IdeaHsm  of  a  newer   fashion  than   Berkeley's  may 
have   other  issues;   but  if    it  avoids   the   sceptical 
conclusion  in  regard  to  all  theology,  it  will  probably 
land  us  in  some  form  of  pantheism  entirely  irreconcil- 
able with  a  belief  in  that  indestructible  spiritual  atom 
called  a   soul.     The  logical    gap,   which   inevitably 
occurs,  has  to  be  filled  by  some   scholastic  show  of 


88 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


argument,  or  by  a  recourse  to  the  supernatural 
authority,  or,  more  frequently,  by  setting  the  emotions 
in  the  place  of  reason. 

The  real  appeal— that  which  persuades  although 
it  can  scarcely  be  said  to  convince— is  the  appeal  to 
the  emotions.     It  is  the  vehement  assertion  that  with- 
out this   belief  life  would   be  intolerable ;   that  the 
world  would  become  hideous,  morality  paralytic,  and 
religion  an  empty  name.     No  creed,  it  is  urged,  could 
have  any  real  hold  upon  mankind  of  which  the  Chris- 
tian dogma  of  personal  immortality  did  not  form  an 
organic  part.     It  should  follow  that  such  a  doctrine 
has  formed  part  of  all  widely-spread  and  enduring 
creeds.     This  statement,  indeed,  brings  us  into  rude 
conflict  with  the  most  notorious  facts.     The  briefest 
outline  of  the  religious  history  of  mankind  shows  that 
creeds  which  can  count  more  adherents  than  Chris- 
tianity, and  have  flourished  through  a  longer  period, 
have  yet  omitted  all  that  makes  the  Christian  doc- 
trine of  a  future  state  valuable  in  the  eyes  of   its 
supporters.    But,  even  if  we  could  get  rid  of  so  stupen- 
dous a  fact  as,  for  example,  the  existence  of  the  multi- 
tudinous creeds  of  the  East,  by  expedients  scarcely 
admissible  in  the  days  when  religion  is  being  studied 
in  a  scientific   spirit,  we  should  find   some  strange 
puzzles  within  the  limits  of  the  Christian  Churches. 

Thus,  for  example,  the  most  fervent  preachers  of 
Christianity  are  committed  to  the  assertion  of  the 
essential  continuity  of  their  own  with   the   Jewish 


^:^^ 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


89 


creed.    Everyone,  infidel  or  orthodox,  will  agree  that, 
of  all  creeds  known  to  mankind,   the  Jewish  has 
stamped  itself  most  deeply  into  the  very  fibre  and 
intimate  constitution  of  the  believing  race.     And  yet 
it  is  a  palpable  fact  that  the  creed  of  the  early  Jews 
virtually  ignores  all  distinct  reference  to  a  future  state. 
If  some  indirect  and  constructive  allusions  can  be  tor- 
tured out  of  special  texts  by  the  ingenuity  of  commen- 
tators, the  general  silence  is  the  more  remarkable. 
The   doctrine  which  forms  a  corner-stone  of  Chris- 
tianity appears  as  an  extraneous  addition  appended 
by  way  of  afterthought  to  the  main   structure  of 
Judaism.     The  Christian  priest  calmly  reads  to  his 
hearers   the  melancholy  scepticism  of    the  Jewish 
Preacher,   and    assures  them    that  every  word    is 
divinely  inspired.     '  The  living  know  that  they  shall 
die :  but  the  dead  know  not  anything,  neither  have 
they  any  more  a  reward,  for  the  memory  of  them  is 
forgotten.      Also   their  love,  and  their  hatred,  and 
their  envy,  is  now  perished  ;  neither  have  they  any 
more  a  portion  in  anything  that  is  done  under  the 
sun.  .  .  .  Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it 
with  thy  might ;  for  there  is  no  work,  nor  device,  nor 
knowledge,  nor  wisdom,  in  the  grave  whither  thou 
goest.' 

If  some  of  the  Preacher's  phrases  may  be  forced 
to  look  another  way,  his  doctrine  is  one  which  reads 
strangely  in  a  Christian  mouth ;  so  strangely,  one 
may  say,  that  if  his  book  were  now  discovered  for  the 


90 


DREAMS  AND   REALITIES 


first  time,  it  would  have  as  little  chance  of  being  added 
to  the  canon  as  the  magnificent  stanzas  of  Omar 
Khayyam  of  being  incorporated  with  the  gentle 
pietism  of  the  *  Christian  Year.'  Or,  again,  what  is 
the  true  moral  of  the  Book  of  Job,  accounted  to  be 
the  most  impressive  poetical  treatment  in  all  literature 
of  the  great  problem  of  the  unequal  distribution  of 
good  and  evil  ?  Is  it  to  be  found  in  the  odd  state- 
ment— certainly  not  very  edifying  from  any  point  of 
view—  that  Job  was  rewarded  with  six  thousand  camels 
and  fourteen  thousand  sheep,  besides  oxen,  asses, 
sons,  and  daughters  ;  or  is  it  not  virtually  a  splendid 
declamation  in  favour  of  Agnosticism  ?  The  problem 
of  the  universe  is  insoluble.  The  wisest  of  us  cannot 
presume  to  comprehend  even  a  fractional  part  of  the 
vast  scheme  of  the  universe.  The  ways  of  the  God 
who  made  Behemoth  and  Leviathan  are  past  finding 
out,  and  we  must  not  presume  even  to  try  to  under- 
stand. When  Dante  incarnated  in  poetry  the  deepest 
thought  of  an  age  really  penetrated  to  the  core  with 
a  belief  in  future  retribution,  we  know  how  he 
answered  the  problem.  He  replied  by  the  most 
elaborate  and  minute  description  of  that  future  world 
in  which  the  demands  of  a  rigid  justice  will  be  satis- 
fied to  the  uttermost  scruple.  It  is  plain  that  the 
faintest  hint  of  such  a  solution  was  scarcely  present 
to  the  mind  of  his  Jewish  predecessor  when  awed, 
overpowered,  and  driven  to  the  most  sceptical  utter- 
ances by  the  pressure  of  this  tremendous  problem. 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


91 


It  is  surely  strange  that  the  most  impressive  books 
in  the  Hebrew  canon  are  such  as  could  be  accepted 
almost  without  reservation  by  the  sceptic  who  is  re- 
proached for  denying  their  Divine  authority. 

We  have  all  had  the  contrast  strangely  brought 
before  us  in  what  is  called  our  *  sublime '  Funeral 
Service.    Who  has  not  listened  to  the  grand  Psalm 
declaring  that  man  passes  away  like  a  sleep  or  like  the 
grass,  which  is  green  in  the  morning  and  withered  in 
the  evening,  and  finding  comfort  only  in  the  thought 
that  our  little  lives  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Supreme 
Master  ;  and  afterwards  to  the  strange  chapter  from 
St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  where  the  one 
noble  outburst  of  rhetoric  has  to  be  reached  through 
strange  tortuous  special  pleadings,  arguments  from 
superstitious  practices,  false  analogies  about  *  wheat 
or  some  other  grain,'  and  the  queer  irrelevance  about 
'  evil  communications  '  corrupting  *  good  manners  '  ? 
Which  is  the  most  congenial  sentiment  at  a  moment 
when  our  hearts  are  most  open  to    impressions  ? 
Standing  by  an  open  grave,  and  moved  by  all  the 
most  solemn   sentiments  of  our  nature,   we  all,   I 
think — I  can  only  speak  for  myself  with  certainty — 
must  feel  that  the  Psalmist  takes  his  sorrow  like    a 
man,  and  as  we,  with  whatever  difference  of  dialect, 
should  wish   to  take  our  own  sorrows ;    while  the 
Apostle  is  desperately  trying  to  shirk  the  inevitable, 
and  at  best  resembles  the  weak  comforters  who  try 
to  cover  up  the  terrible  reality  under  a  veil  of  well- 


92 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


meant  fiction.     I  would  rather  face  the  inevitable  with 
open  eyes. 

But,  in  any  case,  a  Christian  preacher  should  be 
the  last  man  to  deny  that  a  religion  which  pointedly 
omits  all  reference  to  the  doctrine  of  immortality  may 
yet,  under  some  conditions,  lay  the  most  vigorous 
grasp  upon  human  nature,  and  supply  the  life-blood  of 
a  Puritanical  code  of  morality.  The  Christian  creed 
itself  includes  contrasts  which  are  from  some  points 
of  view  even  more  remarkable.  The  discussion  as  to 
the  logical  basis  of  belief  has  suggested  another  as  to 
the  superstructure.  Canon  Farrar  has  lately^  pub- 
lished a  set  of  sermons  upon  *Our  Eternal  Hope,' 
which  have  been  criticised  by  the  representatives  of 
various  shades  of  Christian  opinion  in  the  *  Contem- 
porary Keview.'  It  is  barely  possible,  with  the  best  in- 
tentions, to  take  such  a  discussion  seriously.  Boswell 
tells  us  how  a  lady  interrogated  Johnson  as  to  the 
nature  of  the  spiritual  body.  She  seemed  desirous, 
he  adds,  *  of  knowing  more ;  but  he  left  the  subject  in 
obscurity.'  We  smile  at  Boswell's  evident  impression 
that  Johnson  could,  if  he  had  chosen,  have  dispelled 
the  darkness.  When  we  find  a  number  of  educated 
gentlemen  seriously  inquuing  as  to  the  conditions  of 
existence  in  the  next  world,  we  feel  that  they  are 
sharing  Boswell's  naivete  without  his  excuse.  What 
can  any  human  being  outside  a  pulpit  say  upon  such 
a  subject  which  does  not  amount  to  a  confession  of 

'  1878. 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


93 


ignorance,  coupled,  it  may  be,  with  more  or  less  sug- 
gestion of  shadowy  hopes  and  fears?  Have  the 
secrets  of  the  prison-house  really  been  revealed  to  any 
man,  that  he  should  dare  lay  down  its  geography  as 
Mr.  Stanley  can  describe  the  course  of  the  Congo? 
Dante  did  so  once  ;  and  the  very  vigour  of  his  realism 
suggests  hallucination,  if  not  consciousness  of  a  delibe- 
rate invention.  But  Dante  was  at  least  creating  out- 
ward symbols  for  a  vivid  sentiment.  The  darkness 
has  gathered  since  his  days ;  it  is  hardly  to  be  dis- 
pelled by  special  pleading  as  to  the  meaning  of  texts 
and  the  opinions  of  respectable  divines.  It  is  due  to 
the  *  utter  dearth  of  metaphysical  knowledge,'  says 
Canon  Farrar,  that  we  cannot  now  understand  that 
eternal  is  a  word  having  no  relation  to  time.  Alas  ! 
if  we  had  all  the  knowledge  of  that  kind  which 
has  accumulated  in  all  ages  we  should,  as  Voltaire 
forcibly  observed,  know  fort  peu  de  choses.  The 
question  as  to  what  the  Jews  meant,  or  St.  Paul 
meant,  or  what  the  Articles  mean,  is  doubtless 
very  interesting  in  certain  relations,  but  one  would 
like  to  see  a  rather  clearer  recognition  of  the  fact  that 
such  meanings  have  but  an  infinitesimal  bearing  upon 
the  ultimate  problem  itself.  St.  Paul  was  doubtless 
among  the  greatest  of  the  sons  of  men,  but  is  there 
the  smallest  reason  for  supposing  that  he  knew  any- 
thing more  about  that  problem  than  Plato,  or  Con- 
fucius, or  Comte,  or  the  humblest  of  their  disciples  ? 
The  veil  which  covers  that  mystery  is  one  which 


94 


DREAMS  AND   REALITIES 


depends  upon  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  and 
is  not  drawn  back  as  its  faculties  grow.  The  keenest 
eye  is  no  more  able  than  the  feeblest  to  get  beyond 
the  regions  of  light. 

When  men   search    into  the  unknowable,   they 
naturally  arrive  at  very  different  results.     There  are, 
according  to  Canon  Farrar,  four  different  forms  of 
creed  within  the  Christian  Church.     Most  Protestants 
are  of   opinion   that  we   shall   be   divided   into   two 
classes  hereafter,  the  good  being  eternally  happy,  and 
the  wicked   eternally  tortured.     Catholics   hold  that 
there  is  a  large  intermediate  class  of  morally  imperfect 
people,  who  are  only  tortured  for   a  long  time  until 
they  become   good.     A   third  class   thinks   it   more 
reasonable  to  suppose  that   the  bad  will   be   simply 
extinguished  instead  of  tortured.     A  fourth  holds  the 
pleasant  creed  that  after  a  certain   time   everybody 
will  be  infinitely  and  eternally  hap^jy.     As,  moreover, 
there  are   radical   differences   of  opinion   upon   the 
significance   of   every  word  employed,  it  is  obvious 
that  we  might  again  subdivide  the  classes  into  many 
others.     Now  it  is  to  be  observed  that  the  nominal 
believers  in  an  everlasting  hell-iire  have  included,  by 
general  admission,  the  great    numerical  majority  of 
Christians.     The  greatest  divines,  philosophers,  poets, 
and    reformers— such   men   as   Augustine,   Aquinas, 
Dante,  and  Luther— have  accepted  and  enforced  this 
belief.    It  is  plainly  the  belief  of  the  average  multitude 
in  those  sects  which  represent  the  most  vigorous  forms 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


95 


of  Christianity.  Protestants,  Papists,  and  Greeks 
vie  with  each  other  in  setting  forth  the  doctrine  in  the 
most  forcible  manner.  No  one  who  has  listened  to 
a  revivalist  sermon  or  looked  at  the  pictorial  repre- 
sentations common  in  Catholic  countries,  can  deny- 
that  the  belief  is  profoundly  interwoven  with  the 
religious  instincts  of  the  masses.  Destroy  hell,  and 
you  destroy  that  part  of  the  Christian  creed  which 
most  impresses  the  popular  imagination,  and  in  some 
sects  may  almost  be  called  the  keystone  of  the  arch. 

Further,  the  third  form  of  doctrine  appears 
on  Canon  Farrar' s  showing  to  be  nearly  peculiar 
to  the  Kev.  E.  White,  whilst  the  fourth  is  avowedly 
held  only  by  the  small  and  decaying  sect  of  Universalists 
in  America.  Indeed,  Canon  Farrar  does  not  himself 
deny  the  existence  of  hell ;  he  only  thinks  that  fewer 
people  will  go  there,  and  perhaps  find  it  much  less 
disagreeable  than  is  generally  supposed.  He  also  holds 
that  the  fate  of  every  man  will  not  be  irrevocably  and 
definitely  fixed  at  death,  and  so  leaves  room  for  a 
purgatory  differing  in  certain  respects  from  the  purga- 
tory of  the  Koman  Church.  He  quotes  a  good  many 
writers  who,  from  the  time  of  Origen,  have  more  or 
less  sympathised  with  these  views ;  nor  would  anyone 
deny  or  wish  to  deny  that  a  large  number  of  the  most 
philosophical  Christians,  especially  in  recent  times, 
have  greatly  softened  the  doctrine,  and  cherished 
hopes  amounting  more  or  less  nearly  to  a  final  restitu- 
tion of  all  men.    A  leaning  to  scepticism,  or  a  more 


96 


DREAMS  AND   REALITIES 


sensitive  imagination,  or  some  loftier  philosophy  than 
that  of  the  average  believer,  has  enabled  most  men  to 
extenuate  or  to  spiritualise  a  doctrine  inconceivably 
repulsive  in  its  more  intense  forms. 

It  remains  true  that  the  milder  form  of  belief  is 
the  exception.     The  fact  that  it  is  so  is  admitted,  and, 
indeed.  Canon  Farrar  writes  just  because  he  admits  it. 
His  own  opinion,  he  says,  *  is  not,  and  never  has  been, 
the  opinion  of  the  numerical  majority ' ;  and  it  has 
been  explicitly  condemned   by  a    whole    crowd  of 
eminent  writers.     '  Thousands  of  theologians,'  as  he 
says,  *  have  taught  for  thousands  of  years '  that  *  the 
vast  majority  are  in   the   next  world  lost  for  ever.' 
The  whole  of  Canon  Farrar's  contention  is,  therefore, 
not  that  the  doctrine  which  he  assails  is  heretical, 
but  that  his  own  doctrine  may  also  be  admissible. 
The  early  Church,  it  appears,  was  'wisely  silent,'  and 
'  allowed  various  mutually  irreconcilable  opinions  to  be 
held  by  her  sons  without  rebuke.'     The  Church  wisely 
admits  that  it  has   nothing  to  say  as   to   the  most 
important  of  all  conceivable  questions  ;  it  allows  us  to 
believe  in  a  maddening  or  an  intoxicating  doctrine.  We 
may  hold  that  the  great  majority  of  the  human  race 
are  destined  to  endless  torture,  and— if  Canon  Farrar 
establishes  his  point— we  may  also  hold  that  nobody 
will  be  tortured  eternally,  and  that  the  great  majority 
will  be  eternally  happy.    The  pleasant  belief  may  per- 
haps be  admitted  by  the  side  of  the  painful  one,  but, 
even  in  that  case.  Canon  Farrar  cannot  retort  upon  his 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


97 


opponents  the  imputation  of  heresy.     His   opinion 
may  be,  theirs  7nust  be,  admissible. 

What,  then,  is  the  doctrine  which,  by  the  general 
agreement,  is  an  allowable,  if  not  the  only  allowable, 
interpretation  of  the  Christian  creed  ?    It  is  a  doctrme 
of   which   Canon   Farrar   cannot   speak  without   in- 
dignation.    If  anything  can  justify  a  man   in   such 
a  sentiment  it  is  the  vision   of   unutterable   horror 
upon  which  some  theologians  declare  themselves  able 
to  gaze  with  complacency.    But  can  this  language  be 
used   without    drawing   up    an    indictment    against 
Christianity  itself  ?    In  one  of  these  sermons  Canon 
Farrar  discusses  the  question  which  has  been  lately 
raised,  whether  life  is  worth  living.     He  reaches,  of 
course,  the  orthodox  conclusion  that  life  would  not  be 
worth  living  without  the  eternal  hope  of  Christians. 
The  Atheist  ought  to  admit  that  life  is  a  failure.     The 
Christian  can  reply,  *  Life  is  infinitely  worth  living, 
and  death  is  even  infinitely  more  worth  dying ' ;  and 
the  reason  is,  that  *  to  die  is  to  be  with  God  for  ever- 
more.'    Who  is  the  '  Christian  '  who  gives  this  reply  ? 
If  he  is  a  believer  in  the  creed  of  the   majority  of 
'thousands   of    theologians'  during    'thousands    of 
years,'  he  believes  that  for  most  men  to  die  is  to  be 
shut  out  from  God  and  doomed  to  hell-fire  for  ever- 
more.    He  believes  that,  for  the  majority  of  the  race, 
it  would  have  been  infinitely  better  not  to  have  been 
born.     The  infidel  may  look  forward  to  annihilation 
as  a  release  from   the   troubles   of  existence.     The 

H 


98 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


Christian  looks  forward  to  a  state  of  things  in  which 
most  human  beings  will  long  for  annihilation  and 
know  that  it  is  impossible.  They  are  doomed  to  the 
state  described  by  the  great  poet,  in  which  it  is 
the  worst  aggravation  that  they  have  *no  hope  of 
death.' 

Canon  Farrar  tells  us  himself  what  is  the 
effect  of  such  a  creed  upon  a  generous  mind.  He 
*  declares  and  calls  God  to  witness'  that  if  the 
popular  doctrine  of  hell  were  true  he  would  resign 
all  hope  of  immortality,  if  he  could  thereby  save,  '  not 
millions,  but  one  human  soul  from  what  fear  and 
superstition  and  ignorance  and  inveterate  hate  and 
slavish  letter -worship  have  dreamed  and  taught  of 
hell.'  If  alwvios  means  what  some  people  take  it  to 
mean,  he  would  ask  God  that  he  might  die  as  the 
beasts  that  perish,  *  rather  than  that  his  worst  enemy 
should  endure  the  hell  described  by  TertuUian,  or 
Minucius  Felix,  or  Jonathan  Edwards,  or  Dr.  Pusey, 
or  Mr.  Furniss,  or  Mr.  Moody,  or  Mr.  Spurgeon,  for 
one  single  year.'  In  other  and  less  excited  words, 
however  discouraging  infidelity  may  be,  the  creed 
held  upon  this  point  by  the  majority  of  Christians, 
by  most  theologians,  and  by  the  most  effective 
preachers,  is  incomparably  worse.  It  is  only  in 
accordance  with  this  view  that  Canon  Farrar 
observes  that  the  doctrine  is  one  main  cause  of  infi- 
delity, and  that  it  is  a  *  wild  and  monstrous  delusion  ' 
to  suppose  that  it  deters  from  vice.     Christians  who 


DREAMS   AND  REALITIES 


99 


are  in  the  habit  of  asserting  that  the  doctrine  of 
personal  immortality  is  the  great  bulwark  of  morality, 
and  the  great  advantage  of  their  own  creed  over  in- 
fidelity, may  do  well  to  reflect  upon  this  avowal  of  so 
eloquent  and  enthusiastic  an  advocate.  If  your  creed 
is  so  pleasant  and  delightful,  why  does  it  produce  this 
passionate  revolt  from  an  earnest  adherent  ? 

For  reasons  to  be  presently  given,  I  think  that 
Canon  Farrar  has  exaggerated   the   horrors    of    the 
belief.     If,  however,  we  are  to  assume  that  Christians 
believe  in  hell  as  they  believe  in  Paris,  as  a  sober, 
serious  matter   of   fact,   my  only  complaint   against 
Canon  Farrar's  language  would  be  that  all  rhetoric 
becomes  simply  impertinent  in  presence  of  such  an 
abomination.     To   hold   the  belief  groundlessly  is  a 
misfortune  deserving  of  the  sincerest  sympathy;  to 
propagate  it  without  certainty,  an  oftence  deserving 
of  the   gravest   reprobation.      Scorn,  indeed,  rather 
than  anger  is  the  emotion  provoked  by  the  resusci- 
tation of  these  shadowy  relics  of  the  torture-chamber. 
The  preacher  who  affects  to  produce  them  knows  that 
they  are  rotten,  and  will  crumble  if  he  dares  to  expose 
them   to  any   real   strain.     The  question,  however, 
still   remains   which   I   have  just  asked.     If  Canon 
Farrar's   view   be   correct,   the   doctrine  of  popular 
Christianity  is,  in  one  word,  damnable.     How  does 
he  propose  to  defend  the  Church  distinguished  above 
all  others  for  the  force  with  which  it  has  propagated 
this  devilish  sentiment  ? 


H  2 


100 


DREAMS  AND   REALITIES 


The  ordinary  mode  of  evasion  is  familiar  enough. 
We  know  it  well  in  the  allied  question  of  toleration. 
For   many    generations    the    chief    Christian    sects 
persecuted     right    and    left;    they    burnt,    hanged, 
flogged,  dragonaded,  enforced  penal  codes,  drove  the 
best  part  of  the  population  into  banishment,  and,  in 
short,  oppressed  the  unfortunate  minority — whichever 
it    might    be — by  every  conceivable   instrument   of 
tyranny.     When   some  heretics    began   to   denounce 
the  practice  under  which  they  suffered,  the  doctrine 
of    toleration    was    hooted    down    as    savouring    of 
Socinianism,  deism,   and   atheism.     Thanks   to   the 
rationalist  spirit  within   and   without  the  Churches, 
thanks  above  all  to   the  influence   of   such   men   as 
Voltaire,  men  of  all  creeds  have  slowly  come  to  admit 
that  religious  persecution  is  a  detestable  crime,  and 
one  of  the  most  fruitful  of  all  the  causes  of  misery 
that   depend   upon   the  human  will.     And  then  the 
advocates  of  the  Churches  turn  round  and  declare, 
with  astonishing  self-possession,  that   they  are  not 
responsible  ;  persecution  is  quite  irreconcilable  with 
the   true  spirit   of   Christianity.      If  Philip    II.,   or 
Louis  XIV.,  or  Henry  VIII.  chose   to  persecute,  so 
much   the  worse  for   them  and   their   instruments. 
Yes;  but   why   did   you   not  find   that  out   a   little 
sooner  ?     If  I  were  a  landlord,  and  had  calmly  sat  by 
whilst  my  agent  extorted  rents  from  my  tenants  by 
dint  of  applying  thumbscrews  and  rubbing  pepper  on 
their   eyelids,  am   I,  when  my  tenants  have  grown 


DREAMS  AND   REALITIES 


101 


strong  enough  to  turn  tlie  tables,  to  say  quietly,  *  Oh, 
it  was  quite  against  the  letter  of  my  instructions  *  ? 
Why,  then,  did  not  I   return  the  rents,  punish  the 
agent,  and   make   my  instructions   a   little  plainer? 
And  now  for  me,  a  fallible  human  being,  substitute 
what  you  take  to  be  the  immaculate  Church  of  God, 
the  medium  through  which  eternal  truth  is  revealed 
to  erring  man  ;  suppose  that  this  Church  profits  and 
thrives  for  a  time  by  help  of  the  most  atrocious  crimes 
that  have   ever  disgraced   mankind;   that,  far   from 
reviling  the  criminal,  it   has  always   denounced  the 
victim,  and  now,  when  it  is  down  and  the  victim  on 
his  legs,  that  it  complacently  observes  that  it  was  all 
a  mistake ;  what  am  I  to  think  of  such  a  revelation 
and  its  God  ?    You  can  damn  men  readily  enough  for 
not  holding  the  right  shade  of  behef  about  mysteries 
which  you  loudly  proclaim  to  be  inconceivable ;  did 
you  ever— when  you  were  strong  enough— bring  your 
tremendous  arsenal  of  threats  to  bear  upon  men  who 
were  making  a  hell  upon  earth,  and  committing  every 
abomination   under  the  sun   in  your  name  and  for 
your  profit  ?     You  did   not   explicitly  approve ;   or, 
rather,  the  persons  who  approved  in  your  name  did 
it  without  proper  authority.     But  what  is  the  good  of 
a  body  which   can   allow  its   whole  influence  to   be 
used  in  favom*  of  unspeakable  atrocities,  till  its  power 
of  inflicting  them   has   vanished?      Persecution  is 
either  an  imperative  duty,  or  it  is  one  of  the  worst 
of  crimes.     The  Church,  on  Dr.   Farrar's  principle, 


102 


DREAMS   AND  REALITIES 


•  wisely  '  allows  us  to  hold  either  view.  We  can  only 
say,  if  it  be  right,  uphold  the  doctrine  and  encounter 
the  disapproval  of  the  conscience  of  mankind  ;  we  can, 
at  least,  honour  your  courage.  But  if  it  be  wrong, 
you  cannot  sneak  out  of  your  responsibility  by  help 
of  your  legal  quibblings  without  admitting  that  your 
true  Church  which  is  to  guide  us  unto  all  truth  has 
only  a  potential  existence,  whilst  the  concrete  Church 
which  we  can  all  see  and  recognise  may  be  an  ac- 
complice in  the  worst  and  most  demoralising  of  all 
the  cruelties  that  have  left  their  stain  upon  history. 

And  now,  may  we  not  say  just  the  same  of  this 
doctrine  of  everlasting  damnation?  Whilst  the 
Christian  creed  flourished — and  I  use  the  word 
Christian  to  mean  the  actual  creed  which  was  im- 
plicitly accepted  by  concrete  human  beings — 
dominated  their  consciences,  and  was  vividly  realised 
by  their  imaginations,  not  a  doubt  could  be  uttered 
of  the  truth  of  this  dogma.  Protestants  and  Papists 
agreed  in  enforcing  it.  Catholics  are  now  apt  to  claim 
that  they  are  not  more  intolerant  than  Protestants. 
Formerly  it  was  their  popular  and  most  troublesome 
argument  against  such  men  as  Chillingworth,  that  a 
Protestant  could  not  be  saved  on  the  Papist  theory, 
whilst  a  Papist  might  possibly  be  saved  on  the  Protes- 
tant theory.  Threats  of  hell -fire  crossed  each  other 
as  thickly  as  bullets  in  a  battle.  Turks,  Jews,  and 
heretics,  and  even  unbaptized  children,  the  vast 
majority  of   the  whole   race,  were   consigned  to   its 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


103 


flames    as    freely    as    brutes    to    annihilation,    by 
*  thousands  of  theologians  '  and  millions  of  ordinary 
believers.     Only  a  few  milder  thinkers  could  breathe 
a  half-suppressed  whisper  of  doubt  under  imminent 
peril   of  heresy.      Fanatics,  preachers,   and  orators 
exhausted  their  ingenuity  in  giving  form  and  reality 
to  the  conception.     Men,  women,  and  httle  children 
were  driven  into  paroxysms  of  hysterical  excitement, 
numbers  into  madness,  by  vehement  and  unreproved 
declamation.     Every  cruelty  of   the  persecutors  was 
justified  by  the  necessity  of  saving  souls  from  hell. 
And  now,  at  last,  your  creed  is  decaying.     People  have 
discovered  that  you   know  nothing  about  it;   that 
heaven  and  hell  belong  to  dreamland ;  that  the  im- 
pertinent young  curate  who  tells  me  that  I  shall  be 
burnt  everlastingly  for  not  sharing  his  superstition  is 
just  as  ignorant  as  I  am  myself,  and  that  I  know  as 
much  as  my  dog.     And  then  you  calmly  say  again, 
*  It  is  all  a  mistake ;   this,  and  that,  and  the  other 
excellent  man  cherished  a  benevolent  doubt ;  perhaps 
nldyvios  necessarily   means   a   limited   time,    or   has 
necessarily  no  relation  to  time  at  all,   or  has   both 
meanings  at  once  ;  only  believe  in  a  something— and 
we  will  make  it  as  easy  for  you  as  possible.     Hell 
shall  have  no  more  than  a  fine  equable  temperature, 
really  good  for  the  constitution  ;  there  shall  be  nobody 
in  it  except  Judas  Iscariot  and  one  or  two  more ;  and 
even  the  poor  Devil  shall  have  a  chance  if  he  will 
resolve  to  mend  his  ways.' 


104 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


This,  again,  is  all  very  well,  and  no  doubt  the 
terror  can  easily  be  exterminated  after  we  know  it  to 
be  baseless.  But  then,  what  are  we  to  think  of  the 
religion  in  which  so  fearful  a  belief  grew  and  flourished ; 
a  belief  which,  according  to  you,  is  calculated  to  drive 
men  mad,  to  make  them  pray  for  annihilation  as 
infinitely  preferable  to  the  state  which  it  reveals,  and 
which,  so  far  from  exerting  a  moral  influence,  pollutes 
the  imagination  and  lowers  the  tone  of  character  of 
all  who  accept  it  ?  Your  contention  is  really  that  the 
historical  Christianity,  the  actual  belief  of  millions  of 
men  and  women,  deserves  upon  this  head  all  that  its 
fiercest  adversaries  have  ever  said  against  it.  You 
add,  indeed,  that  a  religious  creed  may  be  put  together 
in  conformity  with  the  official  documents  which  omit 
this  ghastly  superstition.  Possibly,  but  a  creed  must 
be  judged  by  its  fruits,  by  the  effect  which  it  actually 
produces  upon  living  men  and  women ;  and  if  in  its 
actual  working  it  formulates  or  protects  such  de- 
testable doctrines  as  this,  it  is  useless  to  complain  of 
the  facts.  If  Christianity  meant  really  what  it  meant 
for  Mr.  Maurice,  or  Mr.  Erskine  of  Linlathen,  or 
Canon  Farrar,  it  would  be  a  very  much  milder  form 
of  belief  than  it  has  actually  been.  Only,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  it  has  had  quite  a  different  meaning  for 
Tertullian,  Augustine,  Aquinas,  Dante,  Luther, 
*  thousands  of  theologians,'  and  millions  upon 
millions  of  professed  believers.  The  fact  affords  a 
conclusive  presumption   that  the  belief  is  what  Dr. 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


105 


Newman  would  call  a  development,  not  an  '  incrusta- 
tion.'    It  must  have  an  organic  connection  of  some 
kind  with  the  vital  principles  of  the  creed,  or  it  would 
not  have  grown  so  vigorously  and  flourished  so  per- 
sistently wherever  Christianity  has  been  strongest. 
Accidental  dogmas  may  be  engrafted  upon  a  creed 
here  and  there  under  special  circumstances ;  they  die 
and  drop  off  when  the  conditions  alter ;  but  a  phe- 
nomenon so  universal  and  enduring  could  hardly  be 
produced   unless   there   were  an    underlying  logical 
necessity  which  binds  it  indissolubly  with  the  primary 
articles   of   the   faith.     It  is,  one   must  assume,    a 
consequence  of  the  mode  of  conceiving  the  universe 
implied  in  the  very  structure  of  Christianity,  not  an 
addition  from  without.     In  any  case,  we  are  virtually 
asked   to  adopt  a  new  creed  because  the  old  has 
fostered  a  detestable  superstition.     It  is  no  strained 
inference    that    some   more   radical    remedy    is   re- 
quired than  a  simple  omission  of  a  particular  clause 
of  the  revealed  code.     The  whole  must  require  to  be 
remodelled.     We  cannot  retain  the  amiable  parts  of  a 
doctrine  whilst  leaving  out  the  sterner  elements,  or  be 
sure  that  we  can  clip  and  mangle  without  emasculat- 
ing. 

Is,  then,  the  Christian  doctrine  of  a  future  world  to 
be  regarded  as  simply  a  curse  to  mankind  ?  That  seems 
to  be  the  reasonable  inference  from  Canon  Farrar's 
assertions,  though  it  is  as  far  as  possible  from  being 
the  inference  which  the  Canon   draws.    If  I  took 


106 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


his  representation  of  Christianity  to  be  true,  I  should 
regard  it  as  necessarily  including  a  very  large  element 
of  devil-worship.     No  dogma  can  be  of  more  import- 
ance than  one  which  serves  as  the  basis  of  the  whole 
moral  system,  and  governs  the  whole  application  of 
religious    principle    to    conduct.    If    the    accepted 
version  of  this  doctrine  be  utterly  repulsive,  we  should 
be  forced  to  hold  that  Christianity  poisons  the  springs 
which  it  represents  as  the  sole  support  of  the  spiritual 
life.     No  other  doctrine  is  so  important  in  regard  to 
practice,  and  none  so  horrible.     And  yet  I  believe,  as 
I  suppose  all  moderately  intelligent  persons  believe, 
that  Christianity  not  only  represents  the  teaching  of 
many  of  the  greatest  and  most  moral  of  mankind,  but 
was  for  centuries  one  of  the  chief  reforming  agencies 
in  the  world.     I  leave  it  to  Canon  Farrar  and  those 
who  agree  with  him  to  solve  this  paradox  upon  their 
own  principles      Upon  mine  the  explanation  is  simple 
enough.     It  is  that  the  so-called  belief  in  a  future  life 
— whether  in  hell  or  in   heaven — has  always  been 
in  reality  a  dream,  and  not  strictly  speaking  a  belief 
at  all.     Occasionally  this  dream,  like  others,  passes 
into  hallucination  ;  as  a  rule  it  is  as  flimsy  in  its  tex- 
ture as  other  dreams,  and  really  supplies  new  symbols 
for  the  emotions  instead  of  suggesting  genuine  motives 
for  action.     The  ignorant  and  the  childish  are  hope- 
lessly unable  to  draw  the  line  between  dreamland  and 
reality ;  but  the  imagery  which  takes  its  rise  in  the 
imagination,  as  distinguished   from   the  perceptions, 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


107 


bears  indelible  traces  of  its  origin  in  comparative  unsub- 
stantiaHty  and  vagueness  of  outline.     If  Christianity 
counselled  men  in  sober  earnestness  to  interpret  the  uni- 
verse as  significant  of  a  cruel  and  arbitrary  despotism, 
it  would  deserve  unmixed  reprobation.     The  true  state- 
ment is  that  it  generates  fantastic  and  sometimes  hor- 
rible  dreams,  which   are  insufficiently  distinguished 
from  realities.     The  confusion  has  sometimes  disas- 
trous results  ;  but  they  are  not  such  as  might  be  antici- 
pated from  the  matter-of-fact  statement  which  con- 
founds poetry  with  prose  and  shadow  with  substance. 
There  is,  of  course,  a  logical  groundwork  for  this 
as  for  other  widespread  beliefs.     The  sources  of  the 
illusion,  indeed,  are  so  numerous  and  plausible  that 
the  only  difficulty  of  explaining  is  in  the  selection. 
When,  for  example,  another  being  has  become  inwoven 
with  our  habitual  experience;  when  we  have  learnt 
to  interpret  various  phenomena  as  signs  of  a  living 
presence,  the  process  becomes  so  spontaneous  and  in- 
stinctive that   we   cannot   speedily  unlearn   it.     We 
actually  feel  (who  has  not  felt  ?)  the  pressure  of  the 
hand  that  is  still  for  ever,  and  hear  the  footstep  that 
is  no  longer  caused  by  the  living  form.     It  is  as  hard 
to  reduce  the  touch  or  sound  to  the  bare  testimony  of 
the  senses  as  for  an  educated  man  to  see  in  a  book  the 
bare  black-and-white  symbols  without  imbibing  the 
meaning  beyond.     There  is,  indeed,  a  contradiction  to 
thought  once  organised   by  experience  in  supposing 
that  the  dead  can  still  speak  or  move.     But  the  infan- 


108 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


tile  intellect  is  tolerant  of  contradictions ;  it  is  not 
surprised  on  discovering  that  a  body  which  was  covered 
with  earth  and  burnt  with  fire  is  again  appearing  in  its 
former  state  ;  and  the  fact  that  death  ends  life  is  but 
slowly  forced  upon  it  by  experience.  If  my  dog  saw 
something  which  recalled  me  after  my  death,  he  would 
accept  the  vision  without  the  least  shock  of  surprise ; 
the  childish  mind  certainly,  and,  we  may  presume,  the 
savage  mind,  is  in  the  same  stage.  As  it  begins  to 
become  sensible  of  the  empirical  truth  that  the  dead 
do  not  rise,  whilst  still  believing  that  they  are  some- 
times seen  and  felt,  it  tacitly  solves  the  contradiction  by 
imagining  another  life,  a  race  of  dim  shadows  which 
haunt  the  graves  of  the  dead  and  visit  the  dreams  of 
survivors.  Eecent  philosophers  have  shown  us  how 
the  experience  of  dreams  and  other  phenomena  may 
suggest  or  corroborate  a  similar  theory,  until  a  spirit- 
world  is  created  more  populous  than  the  world  of  the 
living,  and  inhabited  by  beings,  some  of  whom  gradually 
decay,  whilst  others  are  gradually  promoted  to  the 
honours  of  godhood. 

But  if  the  framework  of  the  belief  is  suggested 
by  misinterpreted  experience,  all  that  fills  it  up,  that 
gives  it  definite  form  and  substance  and  colour,  is 
necessarily  the  work  of  the  creative  imagination.  This 
land  of  vague  shadows  is  the  natural  heritage  of  the 
poet.  Its  population  is  in  part  supplied  by  ordinary 
dreams,  and  the  waking  dreams  naturally  find  in  it 
a  congenial  dwelling-place,  where  they  can  acquire  a 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


109 


kind  of  shadowy  reality.     Even  the  most  orthodox  of 
intelligent  persons  intimate  that  the  particular  sym- 
bols—the fire  of  hell  and  the  harps  of  the  blessed- 
have  no  more  than  a  poetic  or  symbolical  truth.     The 
whole  question  is  as  to  the  extent  of  the  share  contri- 
buted by  the  imagination.     A  very  slight  comparison 
of  the  fully-formed  belief  with  the  ostensible  logical 
groundwork  will  suggest  how  little  is  due  even  to  a 
mistaken    system    of    reasoning.     I    do    not    know 
whether  it  is  the  orthodox  view  that  the  immortality 
of  the  soul  is  capable  of  proof,  or  that  the  doctrine 
can  only  be  known  through  revelation.     In  any  case, 
the  supposed  *  proof  '  leaves  innumerable  questions  un- 
decided.    The  pre-existence  of  the  soul  is  as  plausible  a 
dogma  as  its  post -existence  ;  we  may  as  easily  believe 
that  it  emerges  from  and  returns  to  the  vast  ocean  of 
Divine  existence  as  that  it  persists  permanently  and 
separately ;  and  the  whole  theory  of  *  future  rewards 
and  punishments' — of  the  doctrine  that  our  condi- 
tion through  all  eternity  is  to  be  determined  by  our 
conduct  here — is  palpably  gratuitous  from  any  philo- 
sophical point  of  view.     That  which  distinguishes  the 
Christian  system  from  systems  which  can  reckon  a 
much  greater  number  of  disciples  is  precisely  that  for 
which  no  shadow  of  proof  can   be   advanced ;   and, 
moreover,  it  is  that  upon  which  the  whole  value  of  the 
dogma  depends  in  the  eyes  of  believers. 

The  simple  explanation  is  that  the  whole  process 
is  poetical  in  substance.     It  is  the  construction  of  an 


110 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


ideal  world,  which  may  be  in  some  sense  congenial  to 
the  imagination.  The  conscience  as  trained  by  great 
Christian  teachers  creates  spontaneously  a  system  of 
retribution  inconsistent  with  a  pre-existent  state,  or 
an  ultimate  absorption  of  the  soul  in  the  infinite. 
The  dream-world  is  framed  to  suit  the  moral  theory, 
instead  of  the  morahty  being  adapted  to  facts.  The 
illegitimate  nature  of  the  process  betrays  itself  in  the 
arbitrary  and  even  repulsive  conclusions  ultimately 
reached  ;  but  it  is  the  normal  process  of  the  imagina- 
tive faculty.  .  . 

The  world  of  dreams,  in  fact,  if  not  created,   is 
moulded  by  our  desires.     It  is  the  embodiment  of  our 
hopes   and   fears.     The  historical   conditions  which 
render  certain  impulses  prominent  at  particular  epochs, 
determine  also  the  direction  which  will  be  taken  by 
our   wandering  fancies.     The  plastic   world   of    the 
imagination  yields  to  every  passionate  longing  that 
stirs  our  natures.     Pure  emotion  knows  of  no  limits. 
The  more  vividly  we  feel,  the  less  we  attend  to  the 
conditions  of  feeling.     Absorbed  in  love  or  hate,  we 
cannot  for  the  moment  even  conceive  the  possibility  of 
satiety,  and  imagine  raptures  indefinitely  protracted. 
Past  feelings  survive,  and  the  future  is  anticipated, 
and  we  imagine  a  state  independent  of  time,  and  in 
which  destruction  has  no  place.     We  are  irritated  by 
the  unsubstantiality  of  the  images  created,  and  we  try 
to  compensate  their  faintness  by  magnifying  them  to 
gigantic   and   more  than  gigantic  proportions.     The 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


111 


/ 


phantasms  die  away  rapidly  as  we  wake,  and  we 
stimulate  our  jaded  and  flagging  imaginations  by 
drawing  indefinitely  upon  the  boundless  resources  of 
dreamland. 

A  world  thus  framed  may  at  times  represent  the 
strength  of  love.     We  cannot  and  we  will  not  believe 
in  the  loss  of  those  whose  lives  seemed  to  be  part  of 
our  essence.     A  belief  caused  by  (I  cannot  say  based 
upon)  this  passionate  yearning  is   so   pathetic  and 
even  sacred  that  the  unbeliever  may  well  shrink  from 
breathing  his  doubts  in  its  presence.     It  is,  no  doubt, 
mainly  this  sentiment  which  makes  criticism  unwel- 
come.    Yet  for  that  reason  it  makes  an  answer  im- 
perative.    You  ask  me  for  consolation  under  a  blow 
which  has  wrecked  your  happiness.  The  only  consola- 
tion which  would  really  satisfy  you  would  be  the  assertion 
that  the  blow  has  not  really  fallen.     We  try  to  make 
such  an  assertion.    Do  we  ever  console  anyone  ?    Does 
the  dream  of  the  assumed  blessedness  of  the  change 
really  alleviate  the  sorrow  of  the  loss  ?    Considering, 
indeed,  that  the  future  state  may  represent  eternal 
misery  as   well   as   eternal   happiness,   we  may  ask 
whether  the  *  consolation  '  is  quite  reasonable.     Why 
is  everyone  entitled  to  assume  that  his  own  friends 
have  gone  straight  to  heaven?    But,   not  to  dwell 
upon  this,  what  is  the  real  source  of  such  consolation 
as  can  be  obtained  ?    A  heart-breaking  sorrow  is  as 
much  a  fact  as  a  bodily  pain.     A  man  in  the  tortures 
of  some  cruel  disease  is  in  torture,  and  there  is  no  use 


112 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


in  denying  the  fact.     It  is  not  a  question  of  stating  a 
fact,  but  of  prescribing  a  discipline.     The  loss  of  our 
dearest  may  inflict  pain,  from  which  we  would  willingly 
purchase  relief  by  the  tortures  of  the  worst  disease. 
It  may,  like  the  loss  of  a  bodily  organ,  shatter  the 
pillars  of  existence  ;  we  may  know  that  our  lives  will 
be  henceforth  maimed  and  unreal ;  that  we  shall  move 
about  like  ghosts,  watching,  but  not  sharing  in,  the 
panorama  of  existence.     What  can  we  say  by  way  of 
*  consolation '  that  shall  not  be  a  mockery  ?    I  believe 
that  we  can  only  say  one  thing,  the  one  thing  which 
has  been  said  in  various  forms  by  Wordsworth.     It  is 
simply  the  truth  that  deep  emotion,  even  the  most 
painful,  may  be  *  transmuted '  into    nobler   feeling  ; 
that  sorrow  may  make  the  heart  softer  and  widen  the 
sympathies  ;  that  the  eye  which  has  *  kept  watch  o'er 
man's   mortality '   may  henceforth  see  the  world  in 
soberer  colouring,  but  may  see  more  truly  and  more 
tenderly.     There  is  no  fact  to  be  announced  which 
will  alter  the  truth.     In  that  sense  there  is  no  conso- 
lation.    But  it  is   some  encouragement  to  a  brave 
man  to  feel  in  the  midst  of  sorrow  that  it  may  bring 
him  nearer  to  his  kind,  and  fit  him  to  play  a  worthier 
and  manlier  part  through  the  space  that  is  left  to  him. 
To  the  demands  made  by  such  emotions  as  this 
one  must  reply  respectfully.     But  it  must  be  added 
that  a  belief  in  a  future  life  sometimes  means  the  in- 
tense dislike  of  a  selfish  nature  to  part  from  all  chance 
of  enjoyment.     It  is  mere  greediness  for  life,  and 


113 


means  so  strong  a  regard  for  one's  own  wretched  little 
individuality  that  the  universe  seems  worthless  un- 
less it  is  preserved.     Or  it  may  be  the  expression  of 
the  intense  longing  for  rest  of  the  weary  and  heavy- 
laden,  to  whom  life  is  an  incessant  struggle  against 
overpowering  forces,  who   have  come  to  regard   all 
desires  as  torments,  and  whose  ideal  is  an  everlasting 
repose   scarcely   distinguishable    from    annihilation. 
The  more  active  intellect  frames  a  different  ideal :  it 
feels  that  the  physical  needs,  and  the  sensual  desires 
which  correspond   to  them,  are  the  conditions   that 
clog  its  energies,  and  longs  for  a  region  where  the 
pure  intellect  and  the  finer  essence  of  love  may  have 
room  for  action  in  perfect  independence  of  those  de- 
grading incumbrances.      The  moralist   longs   for  a 
state  in  which  good  and  evil  shall  be  finally  and  un- 
alterably divided,  and  the  harrowing  sense  of  unequal 
distribution  of   happiness  and  misery  cease  its   tor- 
menting discords.     The  philosopher  longs  for  a  final 
revelation  of  truth,  and  the  bigot  for  a  world  in  which 
heretics  will  be   tormented.      The   Nihilist   and  the 
ascetic  and  the  sensualist,  the  lofty  and  the  common- 
sense  morahst,  the  selfish  and  the  benevolent  man, 
the  mystic  and  the  hard  logician,  will  each  create  a 
heaven  or  a  hell  of  his  own  ;  and  the  future  world, 
created  by  a  creed  which  represents  a  wide  and  care- 
fully-elaborated system    of    speculation,   will  blend 
more  or  less  consistently  many  different  conceptions. 
Only  it  is  as  well  to  remark  that  when  people  begin 


114 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


to  quarrel  about  their  dreams,  the  whole  fabric  is  apt 
to  show  its  baselessness  ;  and  further,  that  opponents 
should  remember  that  one  of  the  conditions  of  dream- 
land is  that  it  should  admit  the  phantoms  of  terror  as 
well  as  of  ecstasy.  Wake,  and  the  phantoms  will  disap- 
pear ;  but  if  you  choose  to  dream,  you  must  have  your 
nightmares  as  well  as  your  visions  of  undying  bliss. 
Dreams  must  be  at  least  distorted  and  grotesque 
shadows  of  realities.  Since  life  is  at  best  a  hard 
struggle,  you  can  only  create  a  heaven  at  the  price  of 
supposing  a  counterbalancing  hell.  That  is  a  law  of 
the  imagination  which  will  fulfil  itself  in  spite  of  the 
best-meant  efforts.  Heaven  and  hell  are  correlatives, 
and  rise  and  fall  together.  Hell,  so  far  as  it  is  real, 
is  the  hell  within  us.  Shame,  remorse,  unavailing 
regret  for  the  past,  are  the  very  materials  out  of 
which  it  is  constructed.  It  is  precisely  the  shadow 
of  the  mental  anguish  cast  upon  the  misty  world  of 
dreams.  To  produce  *  conviction  of  sin  '  is  the  aim  of 
all  Christian  preaching ;  the  more  intense  the  convic- 
tion, the  more  vivid  the  phantoms  generated  in  the 
mind.  The  triumph  of  good  may  be  logically  inter- 
preted to  mean  the  extinction  of  evil.  But  in  the 
logic  of  the  imagination,  since  our  satisfaction  in  the 
good  is  bound  up  with,  if  it  does  not  rather  spring 
out  of,  our  misery  under  evil,  the  triumphant  good  is 
inconceivable  without  the  prostrate  evil.  The  back- 
ground of  darkness  is  necessary  to  make  the  glory 
visible.     Our  hopes  are  but  the  obverse  of  our  fears. 


DREAMS  AND   REALITIES 


115 


Whatever  the  meaning  of  alwvtos,  the  fearful  emotion 
which  is  symbolised  is  eternal  or  independent  of  time 
by  the  same  right  as  the  ecstatic  emotion.    It  is  as 
impossible   to   separate  light  from  darkness,  height 
from  depth,  object  from  subject,  as  to  conceive  of  good 
without  conceiving  evil.    And,  indeed,  the  logic  of  the 
creed  really  falls  in  with  its  symbolism.     Time  can 
have  nothing  to  do  with  arguments  about  the  absolute 
and  the  infinite  ;  and  if  a  sense  of  the  real  existence 
of  evil  is  at  the  root  of  our  religious  beliefs,  its  exist- 
ence at  all  implies  its  existence  in  eternity.    You  may 
escape  verbally  by  denying  that  evil  has  any  real  exist- 
ence, but  that  is  to  adopt  an  optimism,  impossible  as  a 
genuine   creed,  and  radically  alien  to  the  Christian 
sentiment.  You  may  escape  from  Manich^ism,  terribly 
plausible  as  it  is,  by  representing  evil  as  limited  and 
prostrate,  but  you  cannot  destroy  evil  without  destroy- 
ing its  antithesis.     To  cultivate  a  strong  sense  of  the 
corruption  of  humanity,  a  dogma  which  is  of  the  essence 
of  Christianity,  without  stimulating  the  belief  in  hell, 
is  the  hopeless  task  of  proving  at  once  that  sin   is 
destructive,  and  that  it  has  no  real  existence. 

Canon  Farrar  may  denounce  to  his  heart's  content 
the  hell  created  by  savage  intolerance,  or  by  the 
coarse  terrorism  which  outrages  the  conscience  with 
its  elaborate  images  of  physical  horror.  We  may  be 
heartily  glad  that  such  denunciations  at  the  present 
day  can  be  uttered  even  by  an  orthodox  divine,  but 
the  phantasms  cannot  be  finally  exorcised  so  long  as 


I  2 


DREAMS  AND   REALITIES 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


117 


the  popular  imagination  is  invited  and  encouraged 
to  dwell  upon  the  future  world,  and  to  invert  the  true 
order  by  basing  realities  upon  dreams.  Hell,  with 
the  loftier  theologians,  meant  a  stern  and  righteous 
hatred  of  sin — a  vigorous  gi*asp  of  the  fact  that  the 
past  is  irrevocable,  and  the  future  its  necessary 
development ;  that  ill  deeds  have  consequences  reach- 
ing forwards  through  all  conceivable  time,  never  to 
be  wiped  out  by  any  bitterness  of  repentance  ;  and 
that,  in  a  world  which  is  one  incessant  struggle,  the 
triumphant  nature  must  be  idealised,  not  as  seated 
on  a  throne  of  everlasting  indolence,  but  with  feet 
planted  on  the  neck  of  evil— evil  prostrate,  but  always 
ready  to  burst  into  renewed  activity  upon  the  least 
intermission  of  watchfulness.  Given  such  sentiments 
and  convictions,  and  the  same  method  of  imaginative 
projection,  they  must  always  be  interpreted  in  the 
same  symbolism.  Hell  must  be  an  integral  part  of 
the  ideal  world  so  long  as  the  radical  convictions  of 
■  Christianity  retain  their  genuine  vitality.  Simply  to 
suppress  it  is  to  substitute  a  vapid  optimism  which 
will  never  satisfy  men  nourished  upon  the  Christian 
version  of  the  unmistakable  facts  of  the  universe. 
Eternal  damnation  is  as  much  a  necessity  of  the 
imagination  as  a  logical  deduction  from  the  funda- 
mental principles  of  the  creed. 

So  far,  again,  as  hell  was  merely  a  translation 
into  poetical  symbols  of  their  genuine  beliefs,  we 
must  make  allowances  for   the  apparently  atrocious 


Iff 


language  of  men  like  Augustine,  or  even  Jonathan 
Edwards.  We  pardon  a  child  or  a  peasant  for  using 
language  which  to  us  is  horrible,  partly  because  the 
immature  mind  can  only  use  such  phrases  as  infinite 
and  eternal  by  way  of  vague  superlatives,  and  partly 
because  it  does  not  so  much  believe  in  errors,  as  fail 
to  distinguish  between  belief  and  fancy.  Its  dis- 
crimination is  not  logical,  but  imaginative.  The 
'images  which  it  creates  are  distinguished  from  the 
realities  which  it  perceives,  not  by  being  less  beHeved 
in,  but  by  being  of  a  more  shadowy  texture.  The 
same  leniency  of  construction  must  be  extended  to 
great  men  who  were  themselves  in  a  more  infantile 
stage  of  mind,  or  who  had  inherited  infantile  modes 
of  conception.  The  underlying  emotion  deserves  our 
respect,  although  the  images  which  it  generated  be- 
come grotesque  and  horrible  when  we  have  learnt  to 
put  more  bluntly  the  decisive  dilemma  of  fact  or 
fiction. 

The  true  evil  is  not  that  the  dreams  sometimes 
take  hideous  shapes,  but  that  all  mixture  of  dreams 
and  realities  involves  distortion  of  facts.  Dreamland 
is,  of  course,  the  natural  empire  of  magic,  sacerdotal 
or  other.  The  phantoms  of  the  imagination  do,  in 
fact,  obey  laws  different  from  those  of  reality.  In 
that  region  fancy  determines,  instead  of  being  de- 
termined, by  fact.  A  charm  cannot  turn  aside  a 
real  bullet,  but  it  may  well  govern  the  flight  of  an 
imaginary  missile.     Expiatory  rites  which  dull  the 


118 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


119 


pangs  of  conscience  really  release  us  from  the  hell 
which  conscience  creates.  Here,  therefore,  is  the 
source  of  all  the  quack  remedies  for  remorse  which 
assume  that  the  past  can  be  wiped  out  by  changing 
the  play  of  the  imagination.  Luther  was  content 
with  abolishing  that  part  of  the  imaginary  world 
from  which  priests  derived  their  chief  claim  to 
authority.  So  long  as  purgatory  was  admitted,  he 
saw  that  it  would  generate  the  superstitions  from 
which  Canon  Farrar  supposes  it  to  be  separable. 
Admit  that  the  future  state  is  modifiable,  and  men 
will  try  to  modify  by  the  only  method  available  for 
the  imaginary  world — some  form,  namely,  of  super- 
natural charm.  But  Luther's  reform  still  left  room 
for  other  modes  of  spiritual  quackery.  The  Protestant 
could  get  rid  of  the  hell  within  him  by  the  simple 
method  of  persuading  himself  that  he  personally  was 
saved.  Conviction  of  salvation  is  salvation  in  dream- 
land. If  priests  had  no  longer  the  keys  of  the  next 
world,  the  believer  could  alter  his  own  fate  by  the 
paroxysm  of  excitement  which  he  called  a  conversion. 
Such  methods  do  in  fact  affect  a  man's  dreams,  and 
are  inevitably  adopted  when  dreamland  is  asserted 
to  be  the  sole  reality.  The  preachers  might  appeal 
to  good  feelings,  as  the  discipline  of  the  Church 
might  be  exerted  for  moral  purposes.  But  the 
method  necessarily  generated  under  certain  con- 
ditions the  corrupt  Protestantism  which  attributed 
a  supernatural  value  to  a  mere  imaginative  change, 


and  the  corrupt  Catholicism  which  attributed  the 
same  efficacy  to  external  rites.  When  we  abandon 
ourselves  to  the  guidance  of  our  imagination,  we 
shall  inevitably  believe  in  remedies  which  have  only 
an  imaginary  validity. 

A  belief  in  a  future  world  is  necessary,  so  we  are 
told,  to  morality.      We  reply  that  the  future  world 
owes  its  conformation  in  great   part  to  the  play  of 
the  moral  instincts.     We  agree  that  it  once  provided 
the  only  mode  through  which  those  instincts  could 
find  expression.      We  maintain  that,  in  this  sense, 
hell,   with  all  its   fantastic  horrors,   has   yet  been 
associated   with  the  most  vital   of   all   regenerative 
forces.     But  then  in  that  very  fact  lies  the  danger  of 
prolonging  the   association  when  the   belief  has  be- 
come a  mere  effete  shadow.     You  would  still  frighten 
men  into  virtue  by  bugbears.     To  make  your  threats 
effective  at    all,   you  must    exaggerate    the    dream 
indefinitely  to  compensate  for  its  unreality.     Then  it 
shocks  and  revolts  instead  of  governing  the  conscience, 
and  you  imagine  expedients  for  softening  the  shock 
which   you   have  produced.      They  are   seen   to   be 
immoral  because  arbitrary  and  unreal,  and  you  then 
try  to  deprive   the  nightmare  of   its  horrors.      You 
will  find   that  a   mere  rose-coloured   dream  fails  to 
satisfy  the  deepest  instincts  which  lie  at  the  root  of 
your  religion.     And  meanwhile  the  whole  vision  has 
become  so  shadowy  and  uncertain  that  its  hopes  and 
its  terrors  cease  alike  to  have  any  tangible  influence. 


120 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


If  the  other  world  is  to  supply  the  sole  adequate 
motives  of  morality,  then  morality  is  to  be  based  on 
a  foundation  more  vague  and  shifting  than  the  spectre 
projected  upon  a  mountain  cloud. 

The  theory  of  the  Almighty  Chief  Justice  is, 
perhaps,  too  antiquated  for  serious  discussion.  If  any 
reference  must  be  made  to  it,  it  is  because,  although 
the  argument  is  not  explicitly  stated,  its  validity 
is  often  tacitly  assumed.  Though  abandoned  in 
actual  controversy,  the  presumption  of  its  utility  is 
still  taken  for  granted.  It  may,  therefore,  be  just 
worth  while  to  note  that  the  whole  doctrine  really 
belongs  to  a  bygone  stage  of  mythology ;  to  a  belief, 
not  in  God,  but  in  an  anthropomorphic  deity,  and 
to  a  deity  of  a  low  type.  He  was  the  product  of  a 
society  in  which  justice  was  still  confounded  with 
revenge.  It  would  be  unfair  to  judge  his  conduct  by 
modern  canons  of  morality  were  he  not  still  occa- 
sionally resuscitated.  We  have  agreed  now  that 
human  laws  should  be  reformatory  instead  of  vin- 
dictive. The  measure  of  their  goodness  is,  that  they 
should  inflict  a  minimum  of  suffering,  and  that  they 
should  be  subservient  to  the  great  purpose  of 
reforming,  if  not  the  criminal  himself,  at  least  the 
society.  Though  they  must  still  be  aimed  at  deter- 
ring from  crime,  they  should  not  inflict,  even  upon 
the  criminal,  sufferings  more  thau  are  required  for 
that  purpose.  The  so-called  divine  law,  of  which  the 
sanction  was  hell-fire,  produced,  on  the  contrary,  a 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


121 


maximum  of  suffering  for  a  minimum  of  effect.  Its 
principle  would,  therefore,  be  simply  revenge  of  the 
most  savage  kind ;  and  reformation,  though  one  might 
have  supposed  an  Omnipotent  Being  to  be  capable  of 
doing  something  in  that  direction,  a  subsidiary  con- 
sideration, if  a  consideration  at  all.  The  reforming 
effect  of  a  law  depends,  not  upon  its  severity  simply, 
but  upon  the  general  recognition  of  its  justice.  But 
when  this  deity  is  promoted  to  be  the  absolute  creator 
of  the  universe,  when  he  has  himself  made  the 
beings  whom  he  tortures  for  ever,  and  placed  them 
in  a  world  full  of  temptations,  it  is  obvious,  to  put  it 
mildly,  that  his  'justice'  must  be  understood  in  a 
non-natural  sense.  To  reconcile  the  theory  of  a 
*  Moral  Governor  of  the  Universe '  with  the  theory 
of  an  Omnipotent  Creator  who  dooms  his  failures  to 
endless  torment,  is  a  problem  which  I  gladly  leave 
to  theologians. 

The  substance  of  morality  is  distorted  as  well  as 
its  supposed  sanction.  In  dreamland  we  get  rid 
easily  enough  of  all  the  pressing  material  wants  of 
life.  If  to  be  moral  is  to  fit  ourselves  for  dreamland, 
we  should  therefore  become  ascetics  or  mystics,  and 
abandon  as  insoluble  and  unimportant  the  problems 
which  are  most  urgently  pressing  upon  mankind. 
The  saintly  ideal  may  doubtless  be  beautiful,  but  there 
is  an  ineradicable  taint  of  the  morbid  and  sickly  in 
its  very  beauty.  It  has  the  same  relation  to  actual 
life  as  the  wizards  and  knights  of  chivalrous  romance 


122 


DREAMS  AND   REALITIES 


L 


to  real  soldiers  or  philosophers.     To  present  a  lofty 
ideal  for  our  imitation  is  among  the  most  important 
functions  of  all  great  religious  or  poetical  teaching. 
But  the  imagination  which  soars  too  far  above  the 
earth  into  the  regions  of  the  purely  arbitrary  ends 
by  creating  the  gi'otesque  and  unreal.     We  want  to 
know  what  a  man  should  be  under  the  actual  con- 
ditions of  hungering,  thirsting  social  beings,  and  we 
are  presented  with  an  emaciated  invalid  with  a  pair 
of    impossible    wings    tacked    mechanically    to    his 
shoulders.     Such  religion  orders  men  not  to  reform 
the  world,  but  to   retire  from  it  in  despair,  and  to 
aim  at  an  ideal  which  is  radically  unattainable.     So, 
again,  we  may  trace   the  opposite   development,   in 
which    we   separate    the    worlds    of    dreaming  and 
reality  effectually  enough.    We  are  sensual  or  cruel 
or  avaricious  in  this  life,  and  reconcile  ourselves  to 
evil  by  dreaming  in  the  most  edifying  fashion.     We 
are  niggardly  tradesmen  on  week-days  and  plunged 
in  saintly  devotion  on  Sabbaths,  or  indulge  in  every 
luxurious    enjoyment,    secure    of   an   absolution   by 
proper  compliance  with   the  ceremonies  that  satisfy 
our  imagination. 

Such  evils  are  common  enough  in  all  ages,  and 
will  probably  be  common  in  one  form  or  another  in 
all  time  to  come.  They  are  stimulated  and  nourished 
by  any  form  of  belief  which  helps  us  to  regard 
morality  as  ultimately  dependent  upon  anything  but 
a  compliance  with  the  actual  conditions  of  the  real, 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


123 


tangible,  and  visible  world  in  which  we  live.  The 
more  extreme  aberrations  of  asceticism  and  anti- 
nomianism,  of  excessive  faith  in  priestly  magic  and 
in  supernatural  conversions,  are,  of  course,  rare  in  a 
civilised  society  which  knows  pretty  well  that  its 
dreams  are  woven  of  unsubstantial  materials.  The 
hell  of  the  present  day  is  objectionable  for  a  rather 
different  reason.  It  can  hardly  be  said,  I  think,  with 
fairness,  that  it  is  ever  a  product  of  commonplace 
selfishness.  The  selfish  man  is  too  comfortable  to 
want  a  hell.  So  long  as  we  do  not  look  beyond  that 
part  of  the  universe  which  is  buttoned  within  our 
own  waistcoats,  we  can  generally  make  ourselves 
tolerably  happy.  The  other  world  is  generally  created 
by  a  deep  sense  of  evils  so  inextricably  intertwined 
with  our  present  state  that  we  frame  an  imaginary 
world  where  all  great  problems  are  solved,  and  dwell 
upon  it  till  we  half-believe  in  its  reality.  It  is  not 
that  which  makes  *  life  worth  living,'  for  it  is  the 
embodiment  of  a  profound  discontent  with  the  world 
as  it  is  ;  but  it  is  that  which  might  make  life  better 
worth  living  if  its  force  were  expended,  not  upon 
dreams,  but  realities. 

Amiable  and  philosophical  minds  cling  to  this 
belief,  because  they  believe  in  all  sincerity  that  to 
abandon  it  is  to  abandon  the  world  to  sensuality, 
materialism,  and  anarchy.  To  these  we  can  only  say 
that  it  is  surely  undesirable  to  associate  the  features  of 
morality  and  our  highest  social  interests  with  a  belief 


124 


DREAMS  AND   REALITIES 


which  daily  proves  more  shadowy  in  outline,   more 
palpably  demoralising  as  it  is  more  distinctly  realised, 
and  more  obviously  divorced   from  any  reasonable 
speculation,  until  even  its  advocates  can   say  Kttle 
more  than  that  they  wish  it  were  true.     If  the  associa- 
tion be  really  enforced  by  logic,  there  is  no  more  to  be 
said ;  only  in  that  case  it  is  desirable  that  an  exhibi- 
tion of  the  logical  ground  should  be  less  frequently 
superseded  by  a  simple  appeal  to  emotion.     It  is  surely 
a  misfortune  that  morality  should  be  ostensibly  based 
upon  a  conception  which  is  avowedly  little  more  than 
a  vague  *  perhaps.' 

The  tendency  to  cling  desperately  to  dreamland 
is  more  frequently  an  utterance  of  that  refined  Epi- 
cureanism which  is  one  of  the  worst  and  commonest 
tendencies  of  the  day.     It  is  the  tendency  which  in 
one  direction  generates  the  cant  of  *  art  for  art's  sake ' 
—the  doctrine,  that  is,  which  would  encourage  men  to 
steep  themselves  in  luxurious  dreaming,  and  explicitly 
renounce  the  belief  that  art  is  valuable,  as  it  provides 
a  worthy  embodiment  for  the  most  strenuous  thought 
and  highest  endeavour  of  the  age.     In  politics  it  corre- 
sponds to  the  doctrine  that  men  should  be  diverted 
from  dangerous  aspirations  towards  social  reform  by 
bribes  administered  to  their  lower  passions,  and  that 
acquiescence  in  enervating  despotism  should  be  pre- 
served  by  lavish  expenditure  upon  frivolous  or  corrupt- 
ing indulgence.     The  religion  which  falls  in  with  such 
conceptions  is  a  fashionable  accomplishment,  governed 


■■w 


DREAMS   AND  REALITIES 


125 


by  the  canons  of  good  taste  instead  of  argument,  and  is 
equivalent  to  a  systematic  cultivation  of  some  agree- 
able emotion.  The  so-called  believer  of  this  type  is  a 
cynic  in  a  thin  disguise.  He  is  partly  aware  that  his 
belief  is  a  sham,  but  is  not  the  less  resolved  to  stick 
to  so  pleasant  a  sham.  He  answers  his  opponents 
by  a  shriek  or  a  sneer.  The  sentiment  which  he  most 
thoroughly  hates  and  misunderstands  is  the  love  of 
truth  for  its  own  sake.  He  cannot  conceive  why  any 
man  should  attack  a  lie  simply  because  it  is  a  lie,  and 
supposes  that  the  enemy  is  prompted  to  disperse  his 
dreams  by  coarse  brutality  and  malignant  hatred  of 
the  beautiful.  His  most  effective  weapon  is  the  petu- 
lant sarcasm  which  was  once  used  by  sceptics  because 
they  were  not  allowed  to  argue  seriously,  and  is  now 
used  by  believers  because  they  cannot.  His  indigna- 
tion is  the  growl  of  the  sluggard  who  will  not  be 
roused  from  his  dreams.  Why  cannot  men  be  satisfied 
to  amuse  themselves  with  the  reverend  phantoms  of 
the  past,  instead  of  prying  into  all  manner  of  awkward 
questions,  upsetting  established  convictions,  and 
pressing  every  comfortable  old  creed  to  give  a  rigid 
account  of  its  validity  and  utility  ?  An  honest  believer 
is  not  necessarily  or  probably  an  obstructive  or  a 
bigot ;  but  obstructive  and  repressive  tendencies  pre- 
dispose a  man  to  accept  the  intellectual  attitude  which 
justifies  him  in  complacently  asserting  that  the  actual 
world  is  going  straight  to  the  devil,  whilst  he  masks  a 
selfish  indifference  under  cover  of  loftier  aspirations 


126 


DREAMS  AND  REALITIES 


127 


towards  the  world  of  the  imagination.  Dreamland 
once  provided  a  safe  issue  for  much  discontent,  for  it 
sanctified  a  policy  of  submission  to  tyranny  and 
abnegation  of  social  duties.  Though  it  has  grown 
more  shadowy,  it  still  provides  a  pleasant  refuge  for 
the  far  less  vigorous  sentiment  of  men  who  see  that 
the  world  has  escaped  from  their  guidance,  and  who 
welcome  a  good  excuse  for  folding  their  arms,  sneering 
at  busy  agitators,  and  declaring  that  the  sole  worthy 
aim  of  human  effort  is  to  be  found  in  dreamland, 
instead  of  amidst  the  harsh  shock  of  struggling 
realities. 


WHAT    IS    MATEBIALISMr 

Metaphysical  arguments  are  apt  to  take  the  form  of 
disputes  about  words.  A  system  of  classification  is 
already  implied  in  a  nomenclature ;  and  new  theories 
are  smuggled  into  belief  under  the  disguise  of  improved 
definitions.  Philosophers  are  constantly  at  cross- 
purposes  over  the  misunderstandings  which  are  thus 
introduced.  The  technical  terms  of  metaphysics 
become  a  coinage  of  ambiguous  value.  This  coinage 
is  again  modified  in  the  heated  furnace  of  theological 
controversy.  When  it  has  passed  into  still  wider 
circulation,  and  even  become  part  of  the  stock-in-trade 
of  the  popular  novelist,  the  old  sharpness  of  im- 
pression is  utterly  worn  away.  The  currency  becomes 
hopelessly  debased.  Phrases  once  used  to  convey 
refined  logical  distinctions  are  now  only  fit  to  take 
place  among  the  clumsy  missiles  with  which  popular 
orators  bombard  the  objects  of  their  hatred. 

This  seems  to  apply  to  the  word  *  MateriaHst.' 
That  word  has  a  philosophical,  a  theological,  and  an 

'  From    a    discourse    delivered    at  South    Place,  Finsbury,  on 
March  21,  1886. 


128 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


ethical    bearing.      Various  meanings  have  become 
attached  to  it  in  the  course  of  many  controversies. 
When  they  are  lumped  together,  and  this  or  that 
thinker  is  denounced  as  a  Materialist,  he  often  finds 
himself  saddled  with  opinions  which  he  would  be  the 
first  to  disavow.    If  he  tries  to  make  distinctions,  he 
is  supposed  to  be  quibbling,  to  be  refusing  to  follow 
his  own  reasoning  to  its  logical  conclusion,  or  to  be 
trying  to  dissociate  himself  from  those  who  are  really 
his  allies.     '  You  are  not  a  Christian :  then  you  hold 
that  the  only  aim  in  life  is  the  gratification  of  the 
senses.'     That  is  a  pleasant  bit  of  popular  logic,  to 
which   freethinkers   are  pretty  well  accustomed.     I 
have  been  told,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  I  am  a 
Materialist.      I  do  not  think  that  I  am  one  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word,  but  I  willmgly  leave  it  to 
others  to  label  me  with  such  tickets  as  they  please 
in  the  museum  of  heresies.     Still,   as  the  phrase 
seems  to   me  to   imply  a  common  misconception,  I 
think  it  only  right  to  try  to  say,  as  frankly  as  I  can, 
what  is,  in  fact,  my  opinion  upon  such  matters.     I 
premise,  however,  that  in  dealing  with  such  a  question 
briefly  and  with  the  least  possible  use  of  technical 
terms,  I  cannot  hope  to  observe  all  the  proper  meta- 
physical niceties.     In  all  probability  I  shall  fall  into 
inaccuracies  both  of  thought  and  language.     I  shall 
merely  try  to  express  myself  as  well  as  I  can  in  phrases 
intelligible  to  the  *  general  reader,'  but  I  should  not 
think  my  opinion  worth   the   trouble  of  expression 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


129 


were  it  not  that  I  take  myself  to  be  aiming  at  con- 
clusions to  which  far  more  competent  thinkers  are 
gravitating.  I  do  not  profess  to  offer  any  solution  of 
so  vast  a  problem ;  only  to  indicate  the  direction  in 
which,  as  I  hold,  a  solution  is  probably  attainable. 

Materiahsm  should,  apparently,  denote  the  doctrine 
that  matter  is  the  ultimate  reality.     Nothing  really 
exists  except  matter,  in  various  combinations  from 
stones  to  brains.     Spiritualism  must  be  the  doctrine 
that  mind  is  the  ultimate  reality.     Nothing  really 
exists   except  thought  in  its  various  modifications. 
The  statement  is   simple  and  clear  enough  if  we 
assume    that  matter    and   spirit  are    words   which 
represent    distinctly  known    entities.    But    this    is 
exactly  one  of  the  cases  in  which  we  have  already 
begged  the  question  when  we  have  given  the  names. 
If  asked  whether  I  accepted  either  of  these  doctrines, 
I  could  not  say  Yes  or  No  till  I  had  asked   some' 
question  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  words.     I  might, 
for  example,  urge  that  spiritual  and  material  do  not 
represent  two  different  categories,  either  of  which  can 
be  contemplated  alone,  but  that  they  correspond  to 
two  methods  of  combining  experience,  each  legitimate 
within  its  own  sphere  ;  and  that  when  we  try  to  get 
beyond  the  necessary  hmits  of  knowledge,  each  con- 
ception will  land  us  into  insuperable  difficulties. 

Materialism,  we  may  say,  represents  the  point  of 
view  of  the  physical  inquirer.  A  man  is  a  materialist 
for  the  time  being  so  long  as  he  has  only  to  do  with 


K 


130 


WHAT  IS  MATEKIALISM? 


that  which  may  be  touched,  handled,  seen,  or  otherwise 
perceived  through  the  senses.  We  know  all  that  can 
be  known  about  it  when  we  have  combined  all  that 
our  senses  can  tell  us.  Through  the  senses  we  define 
its  configuration,  or,  in  other  words,  its  relations  in 
space.  The  senses,  indeed,  reveal  other  than  space- 
properties  :  they  tell  us  of  the  colours,  sounds,  smells, 
and  so  forth  which  are  in  some  sense  inherent  in 
certain  bodies  ;  and  these,  of  com-se,  are  an  essential 
part  of  our  conceptions  of  the  various  objects.  But 
we  treat  these  so-called  secondary  qualities  as  in  some 
way  dependent  upon  the  geometrical  properties.  They 
point  out  rather  than  constitute  the  object.  We 
reach  the  ultimate  goal  of  physical  sciences  by 
establishing  certain  formulae  expressible  solely  in  terms 
of  space  and  time.  We  measure  everything  that  can 
be  measured  in  miles  and  feet,  hours  and  seconds ; 
and  the  general  problem  is  to  determine  the  rules 
according  to  which  one  set  of  positions  will  at  any 
given  time  transform  itself  into  another.  The 
physicist,  of  course,  speaks  of  *  forces  '  and  of  *  energy.' 
But  he  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  meaning  of  such 
words,  apart  from  what  he  calls  their  *  measures.' 
They  are  merely  shorthand  symbols  for  certain 
changes  measurable  in  space  and  time.  The  force  of 
gravity,  for  example,  is  measured  by  the  velocity 
generated  in  a  given  time— that  is,  by  the  rate  at 
which  a  body  is  moving  after  it  has  been  falling  in 
vacuum  for  a  second.     To  say  that  it  varies  inversely 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


131 


as  the  square  of  the  distance  is  to  say  that,  of  two 
such  bodies,  the  one  which  is  at  twice  the  distance  from 
the  assumed  centre  will  begin  to  move  with  a  quarter 
of  the  velocity.     Of  the  force,  considered  apart  from  its 
measure,  we  can  say  nothing  whatever;  and  it  was 
precisely  by  confining  their  attention  to  the  measure 
that  scientific  reasoners  were  able  to  get  rid  of  meta- 
physical puzzles  which  had  made  progress  impossible. 
From  the  simplest  to  the  most  complex  scientific  pro- 
blem we  have  still  the  same  procedure.     Astronomical 
problems  are  solved  when,  from  the  position  of  certain 
bodies  at  one  time,  we  can  infer  their  position  in 
another,  the  forces  being  known  in  the  sense  that 
their  measure  is  known.     In  more  refined  inquiries 
we  have  to  pass  beyond  all  possible  Hmits  of  obser- 
vation, and  to  postulate  atoms  which,  by  their  nature, 
are    imperceptible.     But    they   still    have   to  move 
according  to  the  analogy  of  perceivable  bodies,  and 
the  use  of  them  is  justifiable  because  they  bring  us 
back  to  conclusions  which  are  again  within  the  limits 
of  perception.     The  recognised  aim  of  all  scientific 
inquiry  is  to  give  quantitative  relations— that  is,  to 
lay  down  formulae  expressed  in  terms  of  time  and 
space,  and  nothing  else.     Scientific  method,  again,  is 
nothing  but  a  more  refined  and  systematic  application 
of  methods  more  or  less  roughly  implied  in  every 
moment  of  our  lives.     All  human  action  upon  the 
external  world,  including  our  own   bodies,  consists 
simply  in  changing  the  positions  of  pieces  of  matter. 

K  2 


182 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


To  move  a  thing  is  to  impose  upon  it  certain  relations 
expressible  in  terms  of  space  and  time  ;  and,  so  far  as 
action  implies  thought,  it  implies  innumerable  more 
or  less  conscious  judgments  of  the  same  kind.  To 
make  these  judgments  articulate  and  explicit  is  to  make 
them  scientific.  The  whole  structure  of  scientific  know- 
ledge is  built  up  from  such  elements,  and  is,  therefore, 
nothing  but  a  system  of  formulae  in  terms  of  space  and 
time.  So  long  as  we  are  dealing  with  the  so-called 
physical  sciences,  nobody  objects  to  this  procedure. 
We  are  only  systematising  and  giving  precision  to  our 
thought.  But  a  difficulty  occurs  when  the  man  of 
science  begins  to  deal  with  organised  and  living  matter ; 
when  he  tries  to  unify  knowledge  by  reasoning  from 
the  principles  of  physical  science  in  the  departments 
claimed  by  the  philosopher  and  the  psychologist. 
The  brain  is  a  piece  of  matter ;  thought  is  somehow 
dependent  upon  the  action  of  the  brain  ;  a  stone 
impinges  on  a  nerve  ;  a  message  is  sent  to  the  brain, 
and  returns  in  the  shape  of  a  muscular  impulse.  Is 
the  whole  of  this  process  to  be  explained  by  a  set  of 
movements  of  vibrating  atoms  ?  Are  we  to  give  up 
the  belief  that  our  thoughts  and  emotions  have  some- 
thing to  do  with  our  actions,  and  to  conceive  of  the 
mind  as  a  phantom  looking  on  (if  a  phantom  can 
look  on)  at  the  mysterious  dance  of  a  whirlwind  of 
infinitesimal  particles  of  dust  ?  It  is  undeniable  that 
these  questions  lead  to  enormous  difficulties.  How 
are  we  to  state  the  relation  between  biain  and  mind  ? 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


138 


That  they  are  related  is  undeniable  ;  but  the  boldest 
theorist  would  hesitate  to  state  definitely  what  is  the 
nature  of  the  relation.  It  seems  that  we  are  so  far 
from  being  able  to  answer  the  question  correctly  that 
we  cannot  as  yet  even  put  the  question  accurately. 
When  this  is  the  state  of  the  case  for  even  the  most 
competent  inquirers,  I  think  that  one  who  does  not 
profess  to  be  competent  should  be  modest  enough  to 
confess  himself  a  provisional  Agnostic.  He  must 
admit  that,  so  far  from  having  a  solution,  he  does  not 
quite  perceive  where  the  difficulty  lies,  though  he  is 
painfully  aware  that  it  exists  ;  nor  feel  certain  whether 
it  is  or  is  not  one  of  the  questions  to  which  an  answer 
may  be  reasonably  anticipated.  There  are  probably 
some  facts  which  we  shall  always  have  to  accept  as 
ultimate — to  be  admitted  but  not  to  be  explained. 
Yet,  within  such  narrow  limits  as  are  imposed  by  the 
nature  of  the  case  and  my  own  incompetence,  it  may 
be  possible  to  suggest  the  point  of  view  from  which  it 
may  appear  that  the  danger  is,  after  all,  a  bugbear, 
and  that  there  is  no  fear  that  any  conceivable  pro- 
gress of  physical  science  will  even  tend  to  destroy  our 
belief  in  our  own  consciousness: 

Materialism  has  an  undoubted  plausibility.  To 
common-sense,  nothing  can  be  more  real  than  the  stone 
which  Johnson  kicked  to  confute  Berkeley.  Strip  it  of 
the  secondary  qualities  which  are  obviously  dependent 
upon  the  observing  eye,  and  the  residuum  is  a  block 
of  solidified  space:  matter  resisting  and  embodying 


Ft 


if 


i'f 


pill 


ii 


134 


WHAT  IS  MATEEIALISM? 


geometrical  relations,  and  nothing  else.  Out  of  such 
blocks,  finite  or  infinitesimal,  the  whole  material  uni- 
verse is  constructed  for  the  mathematician  ;  and  in 
the  age  of  Newton  metaphysicians  naturally  took  the 
mathematical  point  of  view,  and  applied  mathematical 
methods  to  all  truth.  They  felt  themselves  in  pre- 
sence of  a  mathematical  world,  which  threatened  to 
be  not  only  real  but  the  sole  reality.  Innumerable 
devices  were  tried  to  get  rid  of  this  oppressive  reality, 
or  to  make  conceivable  its  relations  to  an  immaterial 
soul.  How  could  a  soul  know  anything  of  matter 
except  by  a  continuous  miracle  ?  But  if  it  could  not 
know  it,  must  we  not  resign  all  pretensions  to  a 
knowledge  of  reality  ?  If  matter,  instead  of  the  con- 
sciousness, is  to  be  the  mere  phantom,  does  not  the 
whole  world  become  a  dream,  an  unreal  web  spun  by 
the  dreamer  —  a  *  subjective  *  construction  which  has 
no  longer  any  safe  anchorage  in  fact  ?  What  are  these 
mysterious  entities,  time  and  space,  which  define  the 
nature  of  the  material  world  ?  Do  we  know  of  them 
as  something  existing  altogether  independently  of  our- 
selves, or  are  they  made  by  our  minds  ?  and  can  we,  if 
so,  soar  into  transcendental  regions  altogether  outside 
of  them  ?  So  long  as  the  philosopher  attempts  to  per- 
form such  feats,  the  ordinary  mind,  to  which  common- 
sense  supplies  the  pole-star,  will  prefer  to  hold  by  the 
reality  of  sticks  and  stones,  even  though  such  a  belief 
may  end  in  Materialism  ;  or,  more  probably,  it  may 
contentedly  retain  contradictory  elements  of  thought 


I 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


135 


without  seeking  to  solve  the  antinomies  which  bother 
the  metaphysician.  A  stone  is  *  real,'  and  a  thought 
is  *  real ' ;  but  how  the  realities  are  related  is  a 
question  beyond  the  ordinary  interest.  This  bare 
reference,  however,  to  the  controversies  which  have 
raged  through  centuries  is  enough  to  recall  the  in- 
numerable pitfalls  which  beset  the  unwary  wanderer 
on  every  side.  That  Serbonian  bog  is  not  yet  mapped, 
and  no  plain  pathway  has  been  constructed  through 
its  labyrinth. 

What  are  time  and  space  ?  Eternal  and  self-existent 
realities,  or  transformed  sensations,  or  mental  forms 
somehow  imposed  upon  chaotic  sense  materials  ?  A 
lifetime  may  be  devoted  to  studies  which  will  convince 
us  that  no  answer  can  be  given.  We  may,  however, 
say  in  some  sense,  without  fear  of  contradiction,  that 
in  any  case  we  cannot  get  outside  our  own  conscious- 
ness. We  know  nothing  directly  except  the  modifi- 
cations of  our  consciousness,  thoughts,  sensations, 
emotions,  volitions  and  so  forth ;  and  all  statements 
of  knowledge  carry  with  them  a  reference,  explicit  or 
implicit,  to  the  knower.  An  object  without  a  subject 
is  a  meaningless  phrase.  The  basis  of  the  knowledge 
of  every  individual  is  his  own  current  of  consciousness, 
which  is  transformed  into  knowledge  by  reflection. 
What,  then,  are  we  doing  when  we  raise  this  vast 
structure  of  physical  science,  composed  essentially 
of  time  and  space  formulaB  ?  We  are  filling  up  the 
gaps  in  our  immediate  perceptions.      Each  man's 


136 


WHAT  IS  MATEKIALISM? 


experience  is  fragmentary,  discontinuous,  and  narrow. 
He  sees  infinitesimal  arcs,  and  connects  them  by 
drawing  the  whole  circle.  We  extend  the  range  and 
supply  the  intervals  of  our  knowledge.  We  are  doing 
so  somehow  every  instant  of  our  lives,  and  when  we 
reach  the  furthest  limits  of  the  physical  sciences  we 
are  still  doing  the  same.  I  shut  my  eyes  for  an 
instant,  and  beheve  that  my  pen  and  paper  are  still 
there.  I  believe  that  I  should  see  them  if  my  eyes 
were  open,  and  that  other  persons  may  see  them  still. 
If  I  look  back  to  the  past,  or  forward  to  the  future,  or 
away  to  the  furthest  abysses  of  space,  I  am  carrying 
on  the  same  construction.  I  am  'producing'  the 
curve  of  which  a  minute  element  is  before  my  eyes.  I 
form,  then,  a  kind  of  hypothetical  consciousness,  of 
which  my  own  is  an  essential  part,  but  which  extends 
indefinitely  beyond  it.  By  this  artifice  (if  it  may  be 
called  so)  I  state  a  general  truth  without  explicit 
reference  to  my  own  perceptions.  I  do  so  when  upon 
seeing  a  man  first  at  one  window  and  then  at  another 
I  supply  the  intermediate  positions  and  infer  his 
relations  to  other  objects  by  correcting  my  own 
perspective.  Kepler  constructed  the  solar  system  in 
the  same  way.  He  observed  a  planet  in  certain 
positions ;  he  supplied  the  intermediate  positions  by 
discovering  the  curve  which  passed  through  all  the 
observed  positions ;  and  to  do  so  he  had  to  place 
himself  in  imagination  at  a  different  point  of  view 
from  which  the  relations  asserted  to  exist  might  be 


WHAT  IS  MATEKIALISM? 


137 


matters  of  direct  observation.  All  scientific  progress 
is  a  development  and  a  more  distinct  articulation  of 
the  same  procedure. 

I  do  not  inquire  what  is  the  ultimate  meaning  of 
space,  or  *  outness,'  what  precisely  we  mean  when  we 
say  that  a  thing  is  *  outside'  ourselves  or  outside 
another  thing.  I  only  say  that  we  are  not  in  this 
process  getting  rid  of  an  observer,  but  only  hypo- 
thetically  extending  his  powers.  We  are  *  producing ' 
our  curves :  seeing  in  imagination  what  we  should 
see  through  a  telescope  or  a  microscope,  or  should 
see  if  we  moved  to  Sirius,  or  could  touch  a  ray  of 
light ;  what  we  should  see  if  we  could  live  a  thousand 
years  hence  or  had  lived  a  thousand  years  ago  :  or  if 
we  could  see  the  back  of  our  heads  as  well  as  what 
lies  in  front  of  us.  We  are  still  only  doing  what  we 
are  doing  when  we  shut  our  eyes  or  imagine  the  chair 
behind  us.  We  thus  obtain  formulae  which  are 
independent,  in  a  sense,  of  our  particular  position. 
Yet  they  are  so  constructed  that  when  the  necessary 
data  are  filled  in  they  give  the  experience  corre- 
sponding to  that  position. 

*  This  is  a  table  '  is  a  phrase  which  in  the  first 
place  asserts  that  I  have  a  certain  set  of  organised 
sense-impressions.  But  it  also  means  that  you  have 
an  analogous  set  of  impressions,  and  that  if  we 
changed  places  we  should  also  change  sensations.  It 
is  a  compact  formula,  which  not  only  indicates  the  sen- 
sations of  an  observer  at  a  particular  time  and  place, 


188 


WHAT  IS  MATERULISM? 


but  also  gives  the  sensations  of  every  other  observer  as 
those  which  would  be  perceived  by  the  same  observer 
at  other  times  and  places.  It  is  a  general  formula 
with  an  indefinite  term,  such  that  when  that  term  is 
filled  in  or  defined  it  indicates  the  sensations  corre- 
sponding to  any  particular  case.  We  are,  as  it  were, 
postulating  an  omnipresent  consciousness,  which  may 
be  for  the  moment  focussed  at  any  particular  point, 
and  the  one  phrase  defines  what  will  be  its  perceptions 
at  that  point.  This  habitual  reference  to  the  common 
instead  of  the  particular  generates  the  impression 
that  I  am  somehow  laying  down  truths,  *  objective '  in 
the  sense  of  having  no  reference  at  all  to  my  indi- 
vidual experience.  Such  formulae  have  been  con- 
structed from  the  experience  of  the  race  at  large,  and 
therefore  are  independent  in  one  sense  of  my  personal 
experience.  Yet,  in  fact,  each  man  is  necessarily  his 
own  base,  from  which  all  things  are  measured  for  him  ; 
and  he  only  discovers  wider  formulae  in  which  his  own 
experience  is  included,  not  formulae  from  which  it  is 
excluded.  We  do  not  get  a  step  nearer  towards  the 
abolition  of  the  subject.  When  we  speak  of  what 
happened  when  the  solar  system  was  still  an  incan- 
descent mist,  we  are  only  extending  our  experience,  as 
we  do  when  we  say  that  the  fire  is  still  burning  in  the 
room  we  have  left.  To  say  what  would  or  did  happen, 
outside  of  all  experience,  actual  or  potential— that  is, 
supposing  all  experience  to  be  annihilated— is  to  use 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


139 


words  without  meaning,  as  much  as  to  say  what  I  feel 
when  I  don't  feel. 

If  I  have  not  said,  I  have  aimed,  I  think,  at  say- 
ing something  which  will,  perhaps,  be  admitted  in 
regard  to  the  physical  science— to  the  body  of  truth 
made  up  of  time  and  space  formulae.  But  the  further 
question  remains.  What  other  kinds  of  knowledge  can 
we  attain,  and  how  are  they  related  to  this  ?  So  far 
we  are  at  the  materialist  point  of  view.  We  are 
enabled  to  see  what  we  should  see  with  increased 
faculties,  and  to  trace  the  changes  of  the  vision  back- 
wards and  forwards.  But  nothing  is  so  far  revealed 
to  us  which  is  not  an  object  of  sight,  or  of  one 
of  the  senses.  What  are  the  senses  concerned  in 
weaving  this  marvellous  web  of  the  outward  universe 
may  be  disputed ;  but  they  do  not  in  any  case  in- 
clude all  the  affections  of  our  consciousness.  A  stone, 
according  to  common-sense,  is  a  reality ;  but  so 
undoubtedly  is  a  toothache.  Although  the  pain  is 
associated  in  some  sense  with  certain  objects  exist- 
ing in  space,  in  this  case  with  a  tooth  in  a  certain 
visible  condition,  it  is  merely  associated.  The  pain  is  a 
perfectly  distinguishable  sensation  by  itself,  and  the 
emotions — fear  and  love  and  anger,  for  example — are 
just  as  *  real '  as  the  stone,  or  as  the  sensations  which 
reveal  the  stone,  to  us.  Why,  then,  if  our  various 
feelings,  using  the  word  in  the  most  general  sense, 
are  all  on  the  same  plane ;  if  one  has  as  good  a  claim 
to  real  existence  as  the  other ;  if  I  recognise  each 


140 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


simply  because  it  is  an  element  in  my  reflective  con- 
sciousness, am  I  induced  to  assign  superior  *  reality ' 
to  one  class  ?  A  man  slaps  my  face ;  have  I  not  as 
good  a  right  to  say  that  the  pain  is  real,  or  the  resent- 
ment real,  as  that  the  hand  or  the  face  is  real  ?  One 
answer  would  seem  to  be  simple.  All  knowledge  of 
the  outside  world  is  derived  through  the  sensations  of 
sight  and  touch,  and  so  forth,  which  constitute,  or 
are,  in  any  case,  implied  in  our  perceptions  of  material 
objects.  I  know  of  this  room  and  this  table  because 
I  can  see,  touch,  and  grasp  them.  I  know  that  there 
is  another  person  in  it  because  I  can  see,  touch,  and 
grasp  his  body.  If  my  senses  of  touch,  sight,  and  so 
forth,  could  be  annihilated,  I  could  have  no  know- 
ledge whatever  of  anything  but  my  own  immediate 
feelings.  Laura  Bridgeman  could  acquire  knowledge 
through  the  sense  of  touch  alone,  without  seeing  or 
hearing.  But  what  could  she  have  known  had  she 
been  also  deprived  of  the  sense  of  touch  ?  She  might 
have  had  a  series  of  painful  and  pleasurable  sensa- 
tions; but  for  her  the  universe  would  have  been 
annihilated,  or  she  would  have  been  her  own  uni- 
verse. I  know  of  more  than  I  can  directly  perceive, 
but  I  know  it  by  an  inference.  I  see  a  man's  hand 
tremble  as  I  see  a  candle  flicker.  I  infer  a  draught 
of  air  from  the  flickering,  that  is,  something  the  exist- 
ence  of  which  is  again  perceptible  to  the  senses.  I  infer 
that  the  man  is  afraid,  but  I  can  never  directly  per- 
ceive his  fear.    The  inference  is  no  doubt  justifiable. 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


141 


because  the  belief  in  a  consciousness  like  my  own, 
associated  in  some  way  with  certain  sensible  manifesta- 
tions, enables  me  to  foresee  a  number  of  phenomena, 
the  existence  of  which  can  be  again  verified  through 
the  senses.  A  man  whose  hand  trembles  is  frightened.; 
as  I  know  because  my  own  hand  trembles  under  simi- 
lar emotions,  and  because  a  man  with  a  trembling 
hand  generally  runs  away.  My  knowledge,  however, 
that  there  is  a  man  at  all,  and  my  further  knowledge 
that  he  has  the  emotion  of  fear,  is_deriyed  through 
the  same  senses  which  reveal  to  me  the  existence  of 
the  chair  and  the  table. 

In  both  cases  the  judgment  of  '  reality '  implies 
a  certain  inference.  When  I  say  there  is  a  real 
candle,  I  assert  implicitly  that  the  candle  is  there  for 
you  as  for  me ;  I  make  an  inference  which,  if  I  am 
dreaming,  may  be  a  wrong  inference,  and,  indeed,  is 
often  wrong.  A  fact,  says  somebody,  is  a  bundle  of 
inferences.  I  assume,  to  justify  the  inference,  that  we 
live  in  the  same  world,  or  that  certain  general  formula 
are  true  both  for  you  and  me,  and  will  give  either 
your  sensations  or  mine  when  the  proper  data  are 
inserted.  But  I  am  not  directly  conscious  of  your 
sensations ;  I  can  no  more  see  your  sensation  of  light 
than   I  can  see  your  emotion  of  fear.     Materialists 

are,  indeed— and  it  is  characteristic  of  the  difficulty 

sometimes  betrayed  into  erroneous  language  upon 
this  point.  They  find  themselves  logically  bound  to 
speak  of  a  blue  sensation  instead  of  a  sensation  of 


142 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM  ? 


blue.    To  me,  and  I  fancy  to  common-sense,  such  a 
combination  of  words  is  without  a  meaning. 

The  difference  of  the  two  processes  indicates  the 
source  of  the  illusion  which  we  are  considering.     We 
construct  a  universe  extending  indefinitely  in  space 
and  time  beyond  our  own  immediate  perceptiolTsT 
We  thus  obtain  general  statements  of  fact  which  bear 
no  explicit  reference  to  our  own  personal  experience. 
We  fancy  that  we  thus  get  an  *  objective  '  universe  in 
the  sense  in  which  *  objective '  means  outside  all  con- 
sciousness, instead  of  meaning  a  formula  common  to 
all  consciousness.     The  formula  which  is  true  for  you 
and  me,  and  for  all  other  conscious  beings,  is  taken  to 
be  true  without  any  reference  to  consciousness  at  all. 
We  forget  that  not  only  the  sensations  of  light  and 
heat,  for  example,  have  no  meaning  apart  from  a 
sentient  being,  but  even  that  light  and  heat  as  used 
for  the  supposed  physical   causes  of  the  sensations, 
vibrating  atoms  and  so  forth,  have  no  meaning  apart 
from  the  percipient  being.     Then,  further,  as  we  know 
of  emotions  other  than  our  own  only  through  the 
sensations  which  inform  us  of  material  objects,  as  we 
know  the  man's  fear  only  through  his  trembhng,  we 
attribute  a  superior  reality  to  the  sensations  which 
determine   the    knowledge.     My  own   consciousness 
tells  me  that  fear  is  as  *  real '  as  sight  or  touch  is. 
But  as  I  know  of  your  fear  only  through  the  visible 
and  tangible  manifestations,  I  take  it  to  be  somehow 
dependent   upon   them.     Because   my  knowledge  is 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


143 


dependent,  I  take  the  fact  to  be  dependent.     The 
order  of  inference  is  mistaken  for  the  order  of  exist- 
ence.    The  emotion  is  taken  to  be  an  appendage  to  the 
external  sign  of  emotion.     Thus,  we  first  forget  that 
all  knowledge  of  the  facts  implies  an  inference  from 
our  sensations ;  then  we  attribute  a  reality  to  sensa- 
tions apart  from  the  sensitive  being ;  and  we  suppose 
the  other  modifications  of  consciousness  revealed  to  us 
through  the  sensations  to  be  less  real,  or  to  be  depend- 
ent upon  the  sensations  for  what  reality  they  possess. 
The  argument  which  I  have  thus  tried  to  express 
has,  I  should  say,  two  applications.      In  the  first 
place,  it  condemns  Materialism  so  far  as  Materialism 
professes  to  state  that  *  matter  '  is  an  ultimate  reality, 
and  that  thoughts  and  emotions  are  mere  nothings  or 
phantasms.     We  are  sometimes  told  that  the   solar 
system  was  once  a  *  cosmic  mist,'  a  whirl  of  incoherent 
atoms,  which  has  gradually  shaken  down  into  such 
order  as  we   see  around  us.     In  the  early  stage  no 
human  consciousness  was  possible,  and  therefore  we, 
organised  and  living  beings,  are  merely  the  product 
of  a  blind  fate.     Assuming  the  fact,  which  at  least 
cannot  be  disproved,  we  have  only  to  reply  that  all  that 
science  can  reveal  to  us  is  not  a  state  of  things  which 
existed  outside  consciousness,  but  that  which  was  per- 
ceived if  there  was  a  perceiver.     We  are  still  only 
extending  backwards  the  series  of  our  own  sensations. 
I  abstract  from  my  own  consciousness,  but  not  from 
consciousness  itself.  I  cannot  get  into  a  world  outside  of 


144 


WHAT  IS  MATEKIALISM? 


all  experience.  We  try  to  do  so,  verbally  at  least,  when 
we  invent  the  imaginary  substratum  in  which  sensible 
qualities  somehow  stick,  instead  of  using  the  word 
as  a  mere  name  for  the  coherence  of  certain  groups 
of  sensation.    We  cannot  peep  behind  the  curtain 

Immerst  in  darkness,  round  the  drama  rolled, 

Which  for  the  pastime  of  eternity 

Thou  didst  thyself  enact,  conceive,  behold. 

The  curtain  is  the  reality.      The  effort  to  look 
behind  it  is  an  effort  to  get  out  of  ourselves.     It 
only  plunges  us  into  the   transcendental  region  of 
antinomies  and  cobwebs   of    the  brain.      The   un- 
knowable,  which  lies   beyond,  is  not   made^  into  a 
reality  by  its  capital  letter.      It  is  a  mere  blank, 
with  which  we  have  nothing  to  do.     And  as  for  the 
*  blind  fate '  in  which  materialists  are  charged  with 
believing,  it  is  a  mere  word  ;  except,  indeed,  that  it 
indicates  that  we  cannot  get  into  a   region  beyond 
knowledge  which  will  explain  to  us  why  there  should 
be  a  world  at  all,  or  why  it  should  be  such  a  world  as 
we  know.      We  must  be  content  to  trace  the  facts 
and  their  laws  ;  to  infer  to-day  from  yesterday,  and 
to-morrow  from  to-day.      But   we   can   discover  no 
'fate'  or   *  compulsion,'  blind   or  otherwise,  beyond 
the   facts.     If  we  infer   to-day  from   yesterday,  we 
may  equally  infer  yesterday  from  to-day.     We  may 
run,  backwards  or  forwards,  by  the  same  right  along 
the  chain  of  causes.     If  I  am  a  *  necessary '  conse- 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


145 


quence,  given  the  atoms,  the  atoms  were  a  *  necessary  * 
antecedent,  given  me.  I  may  go  from  causes  to 
effects,  or  effects  to  causes  ;  take  what  is  called,  when 
we  wish  to  be  philosophical,  the  '  teleological,'  or  the 
evolutionist  view.  They  give  merely  the  facts  given 
in  different  orders.  So  far  as  we  admit  causation— 
and  the  admission  is  generally  said  to  be  legitimate 
—we  are  merely  denying  the  intrusion  of  an  intrin- 
sically unaccountable  element  into  the  universe.  We 
are,  in  fact,  simply  taking  a  continuous  series  and 
arbitrarily  dividing  it  uato  two  parts.  We  join  them 
again  by  a  gi'atuitous  hypothesis  of  an  imaginary 
*  fate,'  or  *  necessity.'  We  have,  in  reality,  simply 
the  facts  themselves.  If  living  beings  arose  from 
inanimate  matter,  that  does  not  prove  that  life  is  a 
figment,  but  only  that  matter  had  other  properties 
than  those  which  we  please  to  attribute  to  it.  The 
difficulty  is  one  of  our  own  making,  and  we  make  it 
by  the  assumption  that  we  know  something,  or  pos- 
sibly might  know  something,  about  matter  '  in  itself,' 
that  is,  apart  from  thought  or  feeling. 

The  same  remarks  apply  to  the  supposed  danger 
of  resolving  thought  into  mechanical  processes.  We 
are  forced  to  suppose  that  somehow  or  other  every 
mental  process  corresponds  in  some  way  to  a  cerebral 
process.  To  define  the  *  some  way '  is  the  problem 
which  is  at  present  hopelessly,  or  all  but  hopelessly, 
obscure.  We  are  at  the  very  threshold  of  the  science, 
even  if  there  be  a  conceivable  science.      Rather,  it 


146 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


seems  that  in  some  sense  the  coincidence  must  always 
remain  as  an  ultimate  datum  of  observation.  We 
must  apparently  believe  that  when  Shakespeare  wrote 
'Hamlet,'  or  Newton  the  *Principia,'  some  corre- 
sponding process  took  place  in  the  little  lumps  of 
matter  which  we  call  their  brains.  If,  to  make  a 
bold  assumption,  we  could  say  how  the  two  processes 
correspond,  to  what  would  our  achievement  amount  ? 
We  should,  I  think,  have  learnt  what  Berkeley  called 
a  natural  language.  Each  process  would  be  a  '  sign  ' 
of  the  other.  When  Shakespeare  was  writing  *  To  be 
or  not  to  be,'  we  should  know  that  certain  modifica- 
tions of  his  nervous  system  took  place  simultaneously 
with  the  occurrence  of  certain  thoughts  and  emotions 
in  his  consciousness.  The  students  of '  psychophysics  ' 
are  industriously  labouring  at  the  fringe  of  such 
inquiries.  They  are  trying  to  make  out  certain 
natural  hieroglyphics  which  correspond  in  some  in- 
definite way  to  a  language  which  is  unknown,  and  of 
which  even  the  grammatical  construction  is  a  mystery. 
If  ever  they  obtain  trustworthy  results,  we  shall  still 
know  nothing  but  the  bare  fact  of  a  coincidence. 
When  I,  looking  into  your  brain,  have  certain  sensa- 
tions, I  shall  know  that  you  have  certain  thoughts. 
But  such  a  knowledge  would  not  tend  in  any  degree 
to  weaken  the  conviction,  which  rests  upon  evidence 
as  clear  as  any  scientific  proof,  that  a  man's 
passions  affect  his  conduct :  that  love,  and  hate,  and 
lust,  and  fear,  do  determine  our  actions  ;  although  we 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


147 


might,  on  this  hypothesis,  show  that  they  were 
invariably  accompanied  by  certain  physical  manifesta- 
tions. At  the  worst,  we  should  come  to  some  such 
conclusion  as  was  adumbrated  by  Locke  in  the  pro- 
position, which  seemed  so  scandalous  to  his  contem- 
poraries, that  God  might  superadd  a  faculty  of  thinking 
to  matter.  That  would  be  to  become  materialists,  with 
the  explanation  that  matter  was  itself  a  kind  of  spirit. 
When  we  know  what  matter  and  spirit  are,  we  may 
settle  whether  the  conclusion  is  really  scandalous  or 
not. 

There  is,  I  have  said,  another  application  of  our 
doctrine.     It  has  already  been  indicated  in  the  fore- 
going.    We  escape  from  the  materialist  conclusion 
by  always  keeping  in'  mmd  the  limitations  of  know- 
ledge, or,  in  other  words,  by  refusing  to  admit  mere 
empty  phrases  as   solutions.      If    we  keep  to  the 
so-called  common-sense  point  of  view,  we  ar«  left 
with  two  entirely  disjjarate  entities,  matter  and  spirit, 
which  cannot  be  brought  together  without  a  confusion 
of  thought.     If,  as  philosophers,  we  become  sensible 
of  this  incoherence,  and   try  to  meet  scepticism  by 
pronouncing    time    and    space    to    be    independent 
realities,  we  get  a  solid  mathematical  universe  of 
indestructible  matter,  with  the  soul  looking  on  from 
a  pineal  gland  or  elsewhere,  unable  really  to  influence 
it,  and   only  brought  into  connection  with   it  by  a 
standing  miracle.     If  we  pronounce  time  and  space 
to  be  merely  subjective,  we  take  leave  of  all  relation 

L  2 


148 


WHAT   IS  MATERIALISM? 


to  fact,  and   verbally  construct  the   universe  out  of 
bare  logic,  or  we  create  a  mystical  theory  from  emo- 
tions cast  into  some  show  of  logical  form.     But  such 
constructions,   however  ingenious,   can    lead    to  no 
conclusion,  for  they  have  renounced   the  only  basis 
upon  which  genuine  knowledge  can  be  systematised, 
and  end  in  presenting  a  shifting  phantasmagoria  of 
vision,  coloured,  as  dreams  are  coloured,  by  the  pre- 
dilections of  each  dreamer.    We  have  to  hold  fast  to 
the  realities.     We  must  recognise  the  truth  which  is 
distorted   by  the   materialist  conclusion.     Emotions 
and  feelings,  I  have  said,  are  as  *  real '  as  stocks  and 
stones.     They  play  as  real  a  part  in  the  great  drama, 
and  from  them  it  derives  its  whole  interest  for  us. 
But,  as  I  have  also  said,  we  can  only  know  of  the 
feelings  of  others  through  our  sensations.     Each  of 
us  is  an  absolute  unit,  cut  off  by  an  impassable  abyss 
from  a  direct  knowledge  of  other  consciousness.     But 
we  weave  the  whole  universe  out  of  the  senses,  which 
somehow  indicate  the  varying  relations  of  bodies,  and, 
through  them,  of  other  conscious  beings  to  ourselves. 
Time  and  space  are  the  warp  and  woof  upon  which 
is  embroidered  all  the  shifting  scenery  of  conscious- 
ness.     By  means  of  it  signals  are  thrown  out   to 
us  from  other  centres :    our  isolation  ceases,  and 
our  very  thoughts   are   built  up  by  the  action  and 
reaction   of    other   minds.     From   the   living   body 
which   I   see  or   touch    I  infer   unhesitatingly   the 
existence  of  a  mind  analogous  to  my  own,  for  only 


WHAT  IS   MATERIALISM? 


149 


so  can  I  explain  its  actions.  The  belief  in  the 
existence  of  others  is  part  of  my  most  fundamental 
convictions ;  and  my  whole  system  of  thought  is 
developed  through  the  constant  necessity  of  har- 
monising my  thoughts  with  yours.  The  meaning  of 
objective  truth  is,  simply,  that  which  is  true  both  for 
you  and  me.  When  I  come  to  such  a  neutral  *  form ' 
as  space  or  time,  which  is  taken  to  be  identical  for 
us  all,  I  can  no  longer  call  it  either  objective  or  sub- 
jective, or  I  may  call  it  indifferently  either.  From 
the  fact  that  it  belongs  to  all  percipient  beings  as 
percipient,  we  may  infer  that  it  is  an  essential 
property  of  thought,  or  is  an  ultimate  condition  of 
thought.     It  does  not  matter  which. 

At  this  point  we  come  to  that  question  with  which 
Materialism  is  most  frequently  identified  in  popular 
discussions.  I  hold,  like  everybody  else,  that  there 
are  other  centres  of '  consciousness  besides  my  own. 
Does  this,  then,  imply  a  belief  in  a  *  soul,'  and,  if  so, 
in  an  immortal  soul?  Can  that  belief  be  resigned 
without  giving  up  a  belief  in  volitions,  emotions, 
and  reason  ?  The  materialist  is  popularly  defined  as 
a  person  who  disbelieves  in  a  soul,  and  is,  therefore, 
among  other  things,  logically  bound  to  be  a  brute. 
One  remark,  however,  is  obvious  in  this  connection. 
In  the  earlier  stages  of  belief  the  soul  is  itself  re- 
garded as  material.  It  is  still  in  want  of  fire,  food, 
and  clothes  ;  it  requires  support  as  a  kind  of  outdoor 
pauper,  and  gradually  dissipates  like  a  vapour  if  it 


y 


150 


WHAT  IS  MATEKIALISM? 


WHAT  IS  MATEEIALISM? 


151 


does  not  prolong  existence  in  some  happy  hunting- 
ground.  Moreover,  materialist  conceptions  of  the 
soul  long  survive  the  savage  state.  ^Franciscus 
Ribera,'  says  Burton  in  the  *  Anatomy  of  Melan- 
choly,' *  will  have  hell  a  material  and  local  fire  in  the 
middle  of  the  earth,  two  hundred  miles  in  diameter. 
But  Lessius  will  have  the  local  fire  far  less,  one  Dutch 
mile  in  diameter,  because,  as  he  demonstrates,  that 
space  cubically  multiplied  will  make  a  space  able  to 
hold  800,000  millions  of  damned  bodies  (allowing 
each  body  six-feet  square),  which  will  abundantly 
suffice,  because  it  is  certain  that  there  will  not  be 
100,000  millions  of  the  damned.'  General  Booth's 
followers  might  dispute  the  figures,  but  hardly  the 
principle.  The  pictures  and  sermons  by  which  the  faith 
of  the  ignorant  is  stimulated,  the  proofs  of  a  *  spirit ' 
world  offered  by  beings  who  untie  knots  and  write 
upon  slates — and  must  therefore  be  immortal — are 
sufficient  illustrations  of  the  popular  mode  of  thought. 
Indeed,  there  still  seems  to  be  a  vague  impression 
that  a  body  which  is  burnt  instead  of  buried  will  be 
in  difficulties  at  the  Resurrection. 

This  is  no  accident  of  belief.  Of  course,  every 
reasonable  person  explains  these  sensuous  images  as 
mere  symbolism  intended  to  convey  a  higher  truth. 
But  the  question  is.  What  remains  when  the 
imagery  is  banished?  What  conception  remains 
when  you  seriously  try  to  think  of  the  soul  apart 
from   all    embodiment?     Leibnitz    plausibly   main- 


tained that  every  created  soul  must  have  a  body 
of   some  kind.      The  reason  seems  to  be  given   by 
what  I  have  already  stated.      We  know  of  another 
consciousness  only  by  means  of  the  sensations  which 
reveal  the  body.     Our  inference  is  justified  because 
the  assumption   explains  the    actions  of  the  body. 
I  knock  down  a  man  and   an  image,  and   both  fall 
because    both  are    material.     But  when  the    man 
gets   up  and    knocks  me   down,   the   result  is  not 
explicable  by  any  merely  mechanical    action,   and 
is  fully  explicable  (that  is,  fully  reducible  to  intelli- 
gible *  laws ')  by  the  assumption  that  he  has  certain 
passions  and  volitions.     But  annihilate  the  medium 
through  which  we  know  of  these  passions  and  volitions, 
and  we  find  it  difficult  even  to  think  of  the  conscious- 
ness behind  :  for  there  is  nothing  in  front.     Strip  off 
all  the  web  of  sense-given  fact  which  runs  through 
and  supports  our  whole  conceptions  of  the  world,  and 
the  residuum  is  painfully  like  nothing.     Can  we  form 
any  picture  of   thoughts  and  emotions  going  about 
bodiless  and   bare,  with  no  link  between  them   and 
ourselves  ?    Are  they  not  superfluous,  if  not  rigorously 
unthinkable  ?    Can  we  assert  that  there  is  anything 
knowable  or  conceivable  which  has  not  a  material 
aspect  ?    We  can  make  a  distinct  picture  of  hell,  as 
Ribera  and  Lessius  seem  to  have  done,  because  we 
are  allowed  to  leave  material  bodies  to  be  damned. 
But  it  is  very  difficult  to   form  any  conceptions  of 
heaven,  where  the  souls  are  etherealised  so  as  to  have 


152 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


no  bodies  at  all.  They  are  not  allowed  material 
pleasures  or  bodily  appetites.  It  is  impossible  even 
to  understand  emotions  in  an  eternal  state  where 
nothing  happens  and  no  action  is  rigidly  possible. 
Even  the  ecstasies  become  unintelligible.  Nothing 
seems  to  be  left  but  purely  intellectual  perception,  an 
eternal  consciousness  that  two  and  two  make  four, 
which  is  not,  after  all,  a  very  appetising  prospect. 
What,  indeed,  can  the  most  sublime  philosophers  or 
poets  tell  us  about  the  soul,  if  they  are  in  earnest 
when  trying  to  present  it  without  even  the  most 
rarefied  fragment  of  matter  ?  Its  very  organisation 
seems  to  be  dissolved.  We  know,  indeed,  the  so- 
called  arguments  for  the  existence  and  immortality  of 
the  soul.  I  am  not  sure  whether  it  is  orthodox  to 
believe  in  them,  or  to  consider  that  the  belief  requires 
a  revelation.  The  argument  for  immortality  has, 
indeed,  a  parallel  which  may  be  impressive.  The 
physicist  gives  us  his  version  of  the  old  doctrine,  ex 
nihilo  nihil,  and  tells  us  that  the  absolute  creation  or 
annihilation  of  a  particle  of  matter  is  unthinkable. 
Even  the  orthodox,  who  assert  creation  from  nothing, 
admit  that  such  a  process  requires  Almighty  power  : 
the  inconceivable  operation  of  an  Inconceivable  being* 
It  seems  to  be  our  spontaneous  impression  that  matter 
is  really  the  permanent  element.  Our  thoughts  and 
fancies  change  and  flicker,  rise  and  vanish,  while  our 
bodies  remain  permanent  objects  of  consciousness. 
The  animula  vagula  blandula  is  a  flitting  phantom 


WHAT  IS   MATERIALISM? 


153 


which  cannot  hold  its  own  in  this  solid  world.  But 
if  we  resolve  to  give  up  *  matter '  in  the  transcendental 
sense,  as  a  substance  independent  of  thought,  this 
contrast  would  vanish.  There  is  nothing  but  con- 
sciousness :  the  perceived  or  the  perceivable,  and 
therefore  always  some  perceiver.  An  eternity  of 
potential  percepts  would  seem  to  carry  with  it  some 
statement  of  an  eternity  of  perception.  If  all  that 
we  can  know  or  perceive  means  only  transformation, 
evolution,  change,  but  never  actual  interpolation  of  a 
new  or  elimination  of  an  old  element,  then  the 
*  objective '  formula  should  be  in  some  way  trans- 
latable into  a  *  subjective.'  But  this  doctrine,  what- 
ever may  be  said  for  it,  does  not  conduct  us  to  what 
is  called  *  personal  immortality.'  We  know  that 
arguments  upon  that  subject  lead  to  results  which  are 
arbitrarily  excluded.  We  cannot  give  ourselves  souls 
without  giving  them  to  our  dogs,  and  if  to  our  dogs, 
perhaps  to  plants.  It  is  still  clearer  that  a  belief  in 
posthumous  existence  naturally  implies  a  belief  in 
pre-existence.  *  To  begin  implies  to  end  ' ;  and  to  end 
implies  to  begin.  If  every  cause  has  an  effect,  every 
effect  has  a  cause.  If  the  extinction  of  a  soul  is  un- 
thinkable, so  is  its  creation.  If  you  can  really  beHeve 
in  the  creation  of  a  soul,  that  is  because,  for  some 
reason,  the  imagination  which  resents  the  intrusion 
of  a  new  stone  or  a  new  force  into  the  universe  does 
not  resent  the  intrusion  of  so  flimsy  a  thing  as  a  soul. 
For  the  same  reason,  it  cannot  logically  resent  the 


154 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


extinction.     Had   our  religious  opinions  been  deve- 
loped from  a  different  stock,  we  should  have  found  it 
quite  as  easy  to  demonstrate  the  transmigi-ation  of 
souls  as  their  future  existence.    The  doctrine  of  pre- 
existence,  indeed,  was  suppressed  (as  I  suppose),  not 
from    philosophical  objections,   but    on  account  of 
obvious  ethical  considerations.    We  are  told  that  a 
beginning  of  life  is  inconceivable.     Living  organisms 
cannot  have  been  developed,  as  it  is  not  shown  that 
they  have  been   developed,  from  inanimate  matter. 
Every  living  thing,  then,  is  a  continuation  of  some 
previously  living  thing ;  and  the  soul  should  therefore 
be  continuous  with  a  previous  soul.    I  was  actually 
part  of  my  father,  and  he,  if  we  go  back  far  enough, 
with  Adam  and   Adam's  prehuman  ancestors.     The 
different  souls  are  offshoots  from  some  previous  soul, 
and  the  unity  of  race  implies  an  actual  unity  of  sub- 
stance.    The  argument  seems  to  be  more  consistent 
than  the  argument  for  a  separate  creation  of  souls. 
Why  should  we  not  accept  the  theories  which  suppose 
a  continuous  emanation  from,  and  absorption  into,  the 
world  soul?    We  can,  of  course,  put  together  a  set 
of  words  about  the  absolute  unity  and  simplicity  of 
the  soul.     But  mere  word-barriers  will  never  restrain 
a  thought  guided  by  obvious  analogies.     All  that  has 
to  be  done  is  to  put  our  theory  into  the  premisses,  and 
bring  it  out  triumphantly  as  the  conclusion.     I  shall 
not  attempt  such  arguments.     My  own  soul,  as  far  as 
I  can  judge,  is  a  highly  complex  thing,  and  quite 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


155 


capable  of  being  dissolved  or  absorbed.  But  such 
questions  must  be  left  to  the  philosophers,  who  have 
found  every  variety  of  opinion  thinkable  and  un- 
thinkable. I  am  content  to  say  that,  so  far  as  I  can 
judge,  nobody  knows  anything  about  it ;  and  that  we 
part  company  with  reason  once  and  for  all  when  we 
try  to  reason  about  a  thing  without  resting  upon  the 
experience  which  alone  testiiSes  to  its  existence  or 
reveals  the  laws  of  its  action.  Perhaps  it  would  even 
be  thought  wrong  to  be  dogmatic  upon  such  a  ques- 
tion :  were  it  not  that  it  has  been  made  a  duty  to  be 
absolutely  confident  in  answering  questions  where  no 
two  thinkers  agree,  or  where  the  only  agreement  is 
that  knowledge  is  impossible.  I  am  fully  content  on 
such  matters  to  accept  authority ;  that  is  to  say,  the 
authority  of  competent  reasoners,  which  has  shown, 
as  I  think  unmistakably,  that  there  is  a  majority 
against  any  particular  view,  and  that  no  view  can  be 
admitted  except  as  a  matter  of  arbitrary  choice. 

Without  going  further,  we  can  turn  to  the  ethical 
aspects  of  Materialism,  upon  which,  in  fact,  the  greatest 
stress  is  laid  in  popular  controversy.  To  call  a  man  a 
materialist  is  to  say  more  politely  that  he  is — or,  upon 
his  own  showing,  is  bound  to  be — a  hog ;  and  that 
his  hopes  and  fears  turn  exclusively,  as  Carlyle  put 
it,  upon  the  abundance  or  scarcity  of  pigs'  wash. 
Materialism,  according  to  Comte,  was  the  explanation 
of  the  higher  by  the  lower  (in  his  classification  of  the 
sciences)  -  of  the  laws  of  life,  for  example,  by  the  laws 


156 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


of  mechanics.  A  thoroughgoing  materialist  is  still, 
as  I  have  argued,  at  that  point  of  view  from  which  he 
has  only  to  deal  with  the  direct  objects  of  the  senses. 
He  applies  the  method  which  is  legitimate,  so  long  as 
the  phenomena  concerned  do  not  require  the  recognition 
of  other  consciousness  than  his  own,  to  those  pheno- 
mena which  are  only  explicable  through  such  a  recogni- 
tion. He  should  regard  men,  therefore,  merely  as 
machines,  acting  not  from  volitions  determined  by  emo- 
tions, but  from  purely  mechanical  causes.  He  could 
draw  no  line  of  distinction  between  a  human  arm  and 
the  lever  which  it  works.  If  we  regard  everybody 
except  ourselves  as  mere  tools,  we  are,  of  course,  at  the 
maximum  of  selfishness.  There  is  no  such  thing  as 
morality,  for  there  is  no  such  thing  as  sympathy. 
That  such  a  position  would  be  immoral  needs  no 
demonstration.  Virtue  must  be  a  sham,  and  love  or 
hate  empty  phrases.  The  question,  however,  occurs 
whether  such  a  state  of  mind  is  possible.  To  be 
thoroughgoing  materialists  we  must  not  only  dis- 
believe in  other  men's  feelings,  but  in  our  own  ;  and 
outside  of  a  lunatic  asylum  we  can  hardly  main- 
tain that  men,  including  ourselves,  are  only  teapots  or 
eight-day  clocks.  The  materialist,  on  this  showing, 
is  logically  inconsistent  if  he  allows  that  he  possesses 
even  the  physical  appetites.  Even  a  drunkard  is 
something  more  than  a  sponge.  He  imbibes  liquid 
when  he  is  thirsty,  but  he  has  sensations,  emotions,  and 
a  will,  if  his  vohtiononly  takes  him  to  the  public-houee. 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


157 


He  still  acts  in  a  manner  not  to  be  explained  by  the 
purely  physical  data.     A  man,  indeed,   who   should 
pay  no  regard  whatever  to  the  feelings  of  others,  whose 
only  aim  was  the  gratification  of  his  own  lust,  and  who 
did  not  believe  even  in  the  lusts  of  others,  would  still 
be  a  materialist  after  a  fashion.     He  would   say, 
virtually,  I  have  certain   passions,   but  you  are  all 
dolls,  or,  at  least,  I  shall  treat  you  as    such.     The 
doctrine  is  illogical,  unless   upon   a   practically  im- 
possible theory  of  absolute  egoism.     I  have  argued 
that,  even  in  constructing  a  world  for  ourselves,  we 
proceed  by  assuming  the  existence  of  other  conscious- 
ness than  our  own  ;  and  the  progress  of  moralisation 
consists  in  a  parallel  regulation  of  the  emotions.   Our 
intellectual   order    is    formed    by   recognising   other 
minds;   and  the   social    order    by    harmonising  our 
feelings  with  those  of  our  fellow-beings.     The  con- 
nection is  so  intimate  that  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  a 
materialism  carried  to  the  pitch  of  an  actual  disbelief 
in  any  feelings  at  all,  or  even  of  any  feelings  but  our 
own.    Yet  it  may  be  admitted  that,  if  a  man  can 
hardly  keep  himself  at  the  stage  of  a  piece  of  wood,  he 
can  sometimes  contrive  to  remain  pretty  nearly  at  the 
level  of  pigs'  wash. 

One  conclusion,  however,  follows.  We  must  always 
distinguish  a  man's  philosophy — even  supposing  it  to 
be  perfectly  sincere — and  his  practical  application  of 
it.  My  objection  to  Materialism  is,  simply,  that  it 
involves  a  contradiction ;   and  therefore   I  have  a 


158 


WHAT  IS  MATEKIALISM? 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


159 


difficulty  in  saying  what  is  its  *  logical '  result.     If 
two  and  two  make  five,  what  is  the  sum  of  three  and 
three  ?    That  is  a  question  with  which  I  do  not  see 
how  to  deal.    And,  in  regard  to  Materialism,  I  have 
a  similar  difficulty  about  the  primary  assumption.     It 
is  the  first  step  that  costs.      If  any  feeling  can   be 
'  explamed '  as  a  motion,  perhaps  our  whole  nature 
may  be  explained   in   the    same    way.     If  you   can 
explain  mere  hunger  and  thirst,  perhaps  you  can  also 
explain   love  in  the  most   '  spiritual '   sense  of  the 
words,  as  absolute  selfishness.     The  difference  between 
the  philosophical  materialist  and  his  antagonist  is  not 
that  one  asserts  and  the  other  denies  the  existence  of 
certain  facts  which  we  call  volitions,  emotions,  and  so 
forth,  but  that  they  have  different  theories  as  to  the 
way  of  explaining  them.     Supposing  the  materialist 
to  be  able  to  make  that  first  leap  across  the  chasm,  I 
do  not  see  why  he  should  not  recognise  the  reality  of 
the  emotions  for  which  he  professes  to  account,  and 
assign  to  them  the  same  laws   of    action    as'    his 
opponent.     The  materialism  which  is  really  immoral 
is  the  practical,  not  the  theoretical,  materialism  ;  nor 
do  I  believe  that  it  springs  from  the  theoretical.     On 
the   contrary,  the   theory  is  so  opposed  to  ordinary 
common-sense,  it  is  so  impossible  to  argue  a  man  out 
of  a  behef  in  his  own  emotions,  that  I  do  not  see  how 
it  could  ever  exert  much  influence.    The  ordinary 
man  cares  for  such  theories  as  little  as  he  cares  for 
the  most  obscure  dogmas  that  were  ever  nursed  in 


the  brain  of  a  mystical  theosophist.  Materialism  in 
the  practical  sense  arises  from  whatever  conditions 
tend  to  isolate  us  from  our  fellows  :  from  the  grinding 
poverty  which  limits  a  poor  man's  thoughts  to  the 
simple  gratification  of  his  physical  appetites ;  or  from 
the  isolation  of  a  rich  man,  who  discharges  no  useful 
function  in  society  and  indulges  in  luxurious  dreaming 
as  far  as  possible  from  the  actual  struggles  of  his 
kind. 

But  I  am  not  merely  enforcing  the  commonplace 
— sound  enough  in  its  way — that  a  man  is  often 
better  than  his  philosophy — a  fact  but  for  which  we 
should,  indeed,  be  in  a  poor  way — but  attributing  a 
more  positive  merit  to  materialists.  In  fact,  it  seems 
to  me  that  some  of  the  men  who  were  attacked  by 
that  name  did  more  than  any  of  their  contemporaries 
for  the  improvement  of  mankind.  They  may  have 
thought  themselves  mere  machines  (as  many  of  them 
certainly  did  not),  but  they  acted  as  if  they  really 
desired  the  happiness  of  their  fellow- creatures.  When 
the  Churches  were  on  the  whole  chiefly  inclined  to 
preach  that  everybody  should  be  content  with  the 
position  in  which  Providence  had  placed  him,  they 
systematically  studied  the  plans  by  which  the  pro- 
vidential arrangements  might  be  improved.  Nor  is 
the  explanation  simply  that  they  were  inconsistent. 
Their  aim — and  I  hold  it  to  have  been  a  right  aim — 
was,  briefly  speaking,  to  apply  scientific  methods  to 
social  problems.  They  wished  to  systematise  the  obser- 


160 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


vation  of  the  phenomena  which  must  be  studied  in  order 
to  found  what  we  now  call '  sociology.'  They  were  led 
to  crude  assumptions  and  premature  conviction  that 
a  science — political  economy  for  example — had  been 
definitely  constituted,  when,  in  fact,  they  had  only 
begun  to  see  their  way  to  a  method.  As  the  physical 
sciences  supply  the  type  of  systematic  reasoning,  they 
sometimes  assumed  too  hastily  that  sociology  was  no 
more  than  a  particular  case  of  physical  inquiry. 
Nobody  now  doubts  that  they  reached  some  very 
crude  results.  But  the  introduction  of  a  spirit  of 
scientific  inquiry,  of  methodised  and  accurate  obser- 
vation of  facts,  was  an  achievement  of  the  highest 
possible  significance.  Moreover,  it  was  true,  although 
the  truth  was  no  doubt  seen  in  a  distorted  shape,  that 
social  or  moral  science  must  be  constituted,  so  far  as 
it  can  ever  be  constituted,  upon  a  base  of  physical 
science.  It  is  because  physical  science  has  been  so 
far  established  that  we  can  conceive  the  possibility,  and 
in  a  modest  way,  hope  for  the  establishment,  of  some- 
thing which  may  more  or  less  deserve  the  name  of  a 
science  of  human  nature.  The  road,  no  doubt,  will  be 
long,  and  short  cuts  are  doomed  to  failure  ;  but  it  is 
something  to  have  set  our  faces  in  the  right  direction. 
This  brings  us  to  the  radical  contrast.  The  great 
religions  of  the  world  have  certainly  been  protests 
against  Materialism,  taking  the  word  in  its  practical 
sense ;  that  is,  they  set  forth  ideals  of  life  in  which 
the  intellect  and  the  emotions  are  represented,   as 


WHAT  IS  MATEKIALISM? 


161 


well  as  the  mere  physical  appetites,  and  in  which, 
as  a  consequence,  pure  brutal  selfishness  ceases  to  be 
the  sole  motive.  But  the  doctrine  was  necessarily 
presented  in  terms  of  that  dualism  which  is  accepted 
by  the  common-sense  of  mankind,  and  which  descends 
from  the  old  *  animistic'  superstition.  Man,  it  is 
assumed,  is  made  up  of  soul  and  body.  To  the  soul 
are  assigned  the  higher  faculties,  and  to  the  body  the 
mere  animal  instincts.  If,  then,  I  accept  this  duahsm, 
and  deny  the  existence  of  the  superior  partner;  or, 
even  if  I  make  the  existence  of  the  assumed  soul 
dependent  on  the  existence  of  the  body,  I  may  be 
supposed  to  deny  the  reality  of  all  but  the  animal 
instincts.  This  might  be  the  position  of  a  thorough- 
going materiahst.  He  might  accept  the  antithesis 
and  deny  the  existence  of  one  of  the  correlative 
entities.  What  I  should  deny,  however,  is  precisely 
the  validity  of  the  antithesis.  I  beHeve  in  a  man, 
not  in  two  men,  one  contained  in  the  other  like  a 
kernel  in  a  fruit,  and  capable  of  sometimes  walking 
about  separately.  Nor  do  I  assume  that  all  the  higher 
faculties  belong  to  one  of  these  agents,  and  the  lower 
to  the  other.  I  do  not  believe  that  any  metaphysician 
can  separate  soul  and  body  by  logical  analysis,  any 
more  than  I  believe  that  a  surgeon  will  some  day 
discover  a  soul  by  skilful  dissection  of  the  brain.  It 
is  this  crude  hypothesis  which  makes  the  well-meant 
protest  against  Materialism  subservient  to  doctrines 
equally  mischievous.     The  spiritualist  is  tempted  to 


162 


WHAT  IS  MATEKIALISM? 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM  ? 


163 


deny  the  existence  of  the  body,  and  therefore  to 
deprive  himself  of  all  basis  for  verifiable  theories ; 
or  he  identifies  matter  with  evil,  and  condemns  the 
natural  instinct  as  intrinsically  bad.  He  becomes  a 
thoroughgoing  ascetic  in  order  to  escape  from  ma- 
terialism. The  physical  appetites  are  not  to  be  regu- 
lated, but  to  be  eradicated.  Marriage  is  a  temporary 
concession  to  human  frailty ;  and  the  highest  life  is 
to  leave  the  world,  and  flog  yourself,  and  say  prayers 
at  the  top  of  a  pillar.  An  eminent  theologian  ^  com- 
pares the  history  of  religion  to  the  fairy- story  of  the 
mortal  to  whom  it  was  granted  to  become  whatever 
he  wished,  and  who  rose  through  successive  stages 
to  be  king,  kaiser,  and  pope,  and  then  wished  to 
become  God,  when  he  fell  back  to  his  original  misery. 
So,  he  says,  the  Eastern  Christians  tried  to  raise 
themselves  above  the  temporal  world,  and,  finally,  to 
be  as  God  in  knowledge  and  felicity.  And  then  at 
once  they  fell  back  into  barbarism,  ignorance,  and 
filth.  Their  religion  had  become  a  mere  bimdle  of 
formulae  and  rites,  a  religion  of  amulets,  fetishes,  and 
magic,  so  grovelling  (he  adds)  that  when  Islam  swept 
it  away  the  superstition  was  yielding  to  a  more 
spiritual  creed.  That  is  the  penalty  of  trying  to  get 
really  rid  of  the  facts,  to  hunt  chimeras,  and  find 
comfort  in  ecstasies  and  spiritual  narcotics.  The 
enterprise  is  impossible,  because,  after  all,  we  must 
borrow  our  imagery  from  the  sensible  world ;  and  the 

*  Harnack's  Dogmen-Oeschichtet  ii.  414. 


M 


result  is  not  to  '  spiritualise  '  by  exalting  the  faculties, 
but  to  materialise  even   the  higher  aspirations.    If 
Materialism  would  lead   to  brutality  and  to  logical 
absurdity,  spiritualism  may  lead  to  conclusions  which, 
practically  carried  out,  would  involve  the  decay  or  even 
annihilation  of  human   society,  by  denouncing  the 
strongest  ties  by  which  it  is  held  together.    Happily, 
the  common-sense  of  mankind  was  in  the  West  at 
last  too  strong  for  its  logic.     It  developed  a  creed 
which  was,  at  any  rate,  not  incompatible  with  pro- 
gress or  with  a  practical  appreciation  of  the  value  of 
the  body  and  its  instincts.     Yet,  according  to  the 
official  orthodoxy,  we  still  have,  in  name  at  least,  the 
assertion  of  a  doctrine,  incompatible  not  only  with 
Materiahsm,  but  with  science.     The  centre  of  gravity, 
so  to  speak,  of  the  universe  is  still  to  be  placed  in  a 
transcendental,  not  in  a  material,  that  is,  not  in  the 
real,  world.     The  ultimate  end  of  man  is  not  to  do 
his  duty  as  member  of  a  visible  society,  but  to  '  save 
his  soul,'  and  get  a  place  in  the  heavenly  world. 
Industriously  as    this    doctrine    is    preached,    and 
vehemently  as   the  importance  and  reality  of  the 
belief  is  asserted,  the  hopes  and  fears  associated  with 
it  have  become  vague  and   shadowy.     It  is  difficult 
even  to  understand  how  men  can  have  fancied  them- 
selves seriously  to  believe  in  the  fantastic  imagery  of 
the  old  heaven  and  hell.    It  is  impossible  to  take  the 
slightest  interest  in  the  old  controversies  which  stirred 
all  men's  hearts,  when  they  fancied  that  they  could 


u  2 


164 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


determine  by  logical  disputation,  the  nature  and  rela- 
tions of  the  Supreme  Being,  unless  we  can  translate  their 
dialect  into  terms  of  realities,  and  discover  that  what 
was  really  at  issue  was  something  quite  different  from 
what  was  ostensibly  discussed.  Any  theory  which 
will  really  affect  men's  conceptions  of  duty  and  happi- 
ness must  have  its  fulcrum  on  the  solid  earth,  not  in 
dreamland.  The  Churches  have  found  out  the  open 
secret,  though  they  are  slow  to  confess  it.  A  religious 
body  goes  on  offering  prizes  in  heaven  and  threaten- 
ing sinners  with  the  pangs  of  hell.  But  a  priest- 
hood, if  it  rules,  must  rule  by  obeying.  What  it  has 
really  to  depend  upon  is  the  offer  of  something  that 
people  really  want.  It  has  now  to  show  that  it  can 
help  peasants  to  buy  their  farms  or  working-men 
to  do  without  capitalists.  It  must  promise  to  abohsh 
pauperism,  not  declare  that  poverty  is  a  blessing. 
It  must  not  preach  the  charity  which  implies  depend- 
ence, but  the  spirit  of  independence  which  makes 
charity  needless.  It  must  give  up  the  attempt  to  put 
down  socialism  as  wicked,  and  manage  to  persuade 
socialists  that  they  will  find  in  it  a  powerful  ally— or 
slave. 

The  denunciations  of  Materialism  are  intelligible, 
and  are,  beyond  all  doubt,  aimed  at  real  evils.  It  is 
possible  that,  2,000  years  ago,  the  really  immoral 
materialism  could  only  be  assailed  in  terms  of  the 
doctrine  about  *  immortal  souls.'  It  is  dangerous, 
however,  to  use  that  weapon  now.     You  are  telling 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


165 


your  hearer  that  his  better  instincts  depend  upon  his 
acceptance  of  a  shadowy  and  fading  belief.     He  will 
not  give  up  the  body,  which  he  can  see  and  feel ;  but 
he  may  very  easily  disbelieve  in  his  soul,  and  there- 
fore, as  you  assert,  in  the  instincts  to  which  it  cor- 
responds.    The  true  line,  according  to  the  Agnostic,  is 
to  abandon  this  unmanageable  and  unverifiable  theory 
altogether,  and  to  get  rid  of  the  recriminations  as  to 
the  reality  of  one  world   or  the  other.     The  higher 
instincts  are  realities  :  reahties  as  much  as  the  bodily 
appetites  and  the  pains  and  pleasures  of  which  nobody 
can  really  doubt  the  existence.     That  is  the  critical 
point,  and  one  which  is  as  verifiable  as  any  other  by 
our  direct  consciousness  and  by  systematic  experience. 
The  other  problem— whether   they  are   inherent  in 
metaphysical  entities,  of  which  it  is  only  clear  that 
neither  is  conceivable  alone  -may  be  left  to  puzzle  the 
heads  of  those  who  have  a  turn  for  dialectics  in  vacuo. 
The  true  question  is.  What  are  we?  not  How  long 
will  any  one  of  us  last  ?    If  we  are  only  thirsting  and 
hungering  beings,  let  us  eat  and  drink,  whether  we 
die  to-morrow  or  live  to  eternity ;  we  can  do  nothing 
else.     If  we  are  reasoning  and  loving  and  imaginative 
beings,  then  we  must  love  and  reason  and  imagine 
whether  our  little  lives  are  *  rounded  with  a  sleep,'  or 
stretch  on  for  uncountable  aeons.     We  live,  in  Words- 
worth's famous  phrase,  by  admiration,  hope  and  love. 
That  is  true  ;  but  it  is  also  true  that  we  live  by  bread, 
and  can  neither  hope,  nor  love,  nor  admire,  unless  we 


166 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


^  fill  our  stomachs.     The  material  conditions  of  life  are 
essential;    although    other    conditions    are    equally 
essential   to   higher   forms   of    development.      And, 
moreover,   since  all   knowledge   of   the   outer  world 
comes  to  us  through  the  senses,  we  must  base  every 
social    and    other   theory  upon    the    knowledge    so 
attained.     On  such  terms,  indeed,  it  is  impossible  to 
attain  to  any  knowledge  of  that  supposed  transcen- 
dental world,  in  which  men  have  wandered,  or  fancied 
themselves  wandering,  so  long  and  so  fruitlessly  ;  or 
about    those    imaginary  entities,   among  which  we 
divide  our  faculties,  and  which  turn  out  after  all  to 
be  mere  sensible  experience  disguised.    We  can  look 
backwards  to  past  ages,  or  dimly  divine  some  coming 
events.    We  cannot  get  behind  the  curtain,  which  is 
reality.     If  this  be  called  Materialism,  materialists  we 
must   be.      But  it   is   a   materialism   which   denies 
neither  the  reality  nor  the  value  of    the    loftiest 
instincts  which   ever   animated   saint    or   hero.     It 
takes  those  instincts  for  facts,  and  only  disputes  the 
theories  framed  to  account  for  them  under  the  in- 
fluence   of    philosophical    illusions.      It    does    not, 
indeed,  seek  to  raise   the  value   of  moral   qualities 
by  hyperboles  about   the  Absolute  and   the  Infinite. 
Their  value  is  simply  that  they  are  essential  to  the 
welfare  of  the  race.      It  asserts   their  reality  most 
emphatically,  for  it  connects  them  at  every  step  with 
the  most  undeniable  realities.      The  whole    social 
framework  is  built  up  by  instincts  which  grow  as  the 


MBH 


WHAT  IS  MATERIALISM? 


167 


intelligence  is  developed,  and  the  sympathy  which 
binds  men  together  becomes  wider  and  stronger  as  the 
intellect  takes  us  further  out  of  ourselves.  We  do  not 
really  exalt  men  by  taking  leave  of  the  facts  and 
spinning  those  cobwebs  of  the  brain  which  pass  for 
ontological  '  systems,'  and  are  really  a  futile  attempt 
to  get  rid  of  the  fallacies  involved  in  them  all.  Nor 
is  the  ideal  of  human  nature  really  raised  by  trying 
to  soar  above  the  atmosphere.  It  means  making  the 
best  of  the  materials  at  our  disposal,  and  conformity 
to  the  known  conditions  of  the  world  aromid  us, 
instead  of  the  construction  of  a  fanciful  palace  under 
the  guidance  of  arbitrary  fancy. 


m^mm 


Mil 


168 


NEWMAN'S    THEOBY  OF  BELIEF 

Some  persons,  it  is   said,  still  cherish  the  pleasant 
illusion   that   to  write   a  history  of  thought  is  not, 
on  the  face  of  it,  a  chimerical  undertaking.     Their 
opinion  implies  the  assumption  that  all  contemporary 
thought    has   certain    common    characteristics,   and 
that  the  various  prophets,  inspired  by  the  spirit  of 
this   or  any  other  age,  utter   complementary  rather 
than   contradictory  doctrines.     Could  we  attain  the 
vantage-ground    which     will     be    occupied    by  our 
posterity,  we  might,  of  course,  detect  an  underlying 
unity  of    purpose   in   the    perplexing    labyrinth    of 
divergent  intellectual  parts.     And  yet,  making    all 
allowance   for   the    distortions    due  to  mental   per- 
spective when  the  objects  of  vision  are  too  close  to 
our  eyes,  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  two  of  the  most 
conspicuous  teachers  of  modern  Englishmen  are  to 
be  forced   into  neighbouring  compartments   of   the 
same  logical  framework.     Newman  and   J.  S.  Mill 
were  nearly  contemporaries  ;  they  were  probably  the 
two   greatest    masters   of    philosophical  English   in 
recent  times,  and  the  mind  of  the  same  generation 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


169 


will  bear  the  impress  of  their  speculation.    And  yet 
they  move  in  spheres  of  thought  so  different  that  a 
critic,  judging  purely  from  internal  evidence,  might 
be  inclined  to  assign  them  to  entirely  different  periods. 
The  distance  from  Oxford  to  Westminster  would  seem 
to  be  measurable  rather  in  centuries  than  in  miles. 
Oxford,  as  Newman  says,'  was,  in   his  time,  a  'me- 
diaeval university.'     The    roar    of    modern    contro- 
versies was  heard  dimly,  as  in  a  dream.    Only  the 
vague  rumours  of  portentous  phantoms  of  German 
or    English    origin — Pantheism    and   neologies  and 
rationalism — might     occasionally     reach     the    quiet 
cloisters  where  Aristotelian  logic  still  reigned  supreme. 
To    turn     from     Newman's     *  Apologia '     to    Mill's 
*  Autobiography '  is,  in  the  slang  of  modern  science, 
to  plunge  the  organism  in  a  totally  different  environ- 
ment.    With    Newman    we    are    knee-deep    in    the 
dust  of  the  ancient  fathers,  poring  over  the  histories 
of  Eutychians,  Monophysites,  or  Arians,  comparing 
the  teaching  of  Luther  and  Melanchthon  with  that  of 
Augustine  ;  and  from  such  dry  bones  extracting — not 
the  materials  of    antiquarian  discussions  or  philo- 
sophical histories — but  living  and  effective  light  for  our 
own   guidance.     The  terminal  limit  of  our  inquiries 
is    fixed    by    Butler's    *  Analogy.'     Newman     ends 
where  Mill   began.    It  was   precisely  the  study  of 
Butler's   book  which   was   the  turning-point  in  the 
mental  development  of  the  elder  Mill,  and  the  cause 

*  Apologia,  1st  edition,  p.  149. 


170 


NEW]VIAN'S   THEORY   OF  BELIEF 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


171 


of  his  son's  education  in  entire  ignorance  of  all  that 
is  generally  called  religion.^  The  foundation-stone  of 
Mill's  creed  is  to  Newman  the  great  rock  of  offence ; 
the  atmosphere  habitually  breathed  by  the  free- 
thinker was  to  the  theologian  as  a  mephitic  vapour 
in  which  all  that  is  pure  and  holy  mentally  droops 
and  dies.  But,  for  the  most  part,  Newman  would 
rather  ignore  than  directly  encounter  this  insidious 
evil.  He  will  not  reason  with  such,  but  pass  them 
by  with  an  averted  glance.  *  Why,'  he  asks,  *  should 
we  vex  ourselves  to  find  out  whether  our  own 
deductions  are  philosophical  or  no,  provided  they 
are  religious  ? '  ^ 

That  free  play  of  the  pure  intellect,  which  with 
Mill  is  the  necessary  and  sufficient  guarantee  of  all 
improvement  of  the  race,  forms,  according  to  New- 
man, the  inlet  for  an  *  all-corroding  and  all-dissolving ' 
scepticism,^  the  very  poison  of  the  soul ;  for  the 
intellect,  when  not  subordinated  to  the  conscience  and 
enlightened  by  authority,  is  doomed  to  a  perpetuity 
of  fruitless  wandering.  The  shibboleths  of  Mill's 
creed  are  mentioned  by  Newman— if  mentioned 
at  all — with  unmixed  aversion.  Liberalism,  fore- 
shadowed by  the  apostate  Julian,  *is  now  Satan's 
chief  instrument  in  deluding  the  nations ' ;  "^  and 
even    toleration — though     one    fancies     that     here 


*  Mill's  Antohiograpliy,  p.  38. 

»  Theoi-y  of  Religious  Belief,  1843.  p.  351. 

'  Apologia,  p.  402.  ♦  Arians,  1833,  p.  117. 


Newman  is  glad  to  find  an  expedient  for  reconciling 
his  feelings  to  the  logic  which  had  once  prompted 
him  to  less  tolerant  utterances— is  a  principle  *  con- 
ceived in  the  spirit  of  unbelief,'  though  *  providentially 
overruled  '  for  the  advantage  of  Catholicism.^ 

For  the  most  part,  as  I  have  said,  the  two  writers 
are  too  far  apart  to  have  even  the  relation  of  direct 
antagonism.  But  as  both  are  profoundly  interested 
in  the  bearing  of  their  teaching  upon  conduct,  they 
necessarily  come  into  collision  upon  some  vital  ques- 
tions. The  contrast  is  instructive.  Mill  tells  us 
that  the  study  of  Dumont's  redaction  of  Bentham 
made  him  a  different  being.  It  was  the  dropping  of 
the  keystone  into  the  arch  of  previously  fragmentary 
belief.  It  gave  him  *  a  creed,  a  doctrine,  a  philosophy  ; 
in  one  among  the  best  senses  of  the  word,  a  religion  ; 
the  inculcation  and  diffusion  of  which  would  be  made 
the  principal  outward  purpose  of  a  life.'  ^  The  pro- 
gress of  the  race  would  be  henceforward  his  aim  ;  and 
the  belief  that  such  progress  was  a  law  of  Nature 
could  supply  him  with  hope  and  animation.  Here 
we  have  the  characteristic  divergence  between  the 
modes  of  thought  native  to  science  and  theology. 
Utilitarianism,  when  Newman  happens  to  mention 
it,  is,  of  course,  mentioned  as  equivalent  to  Mate- 
rialism—the preference  of  temporal  comfort  to 
spiritual  welfare.     It  prescribes  as  the  ultimate  end 

•  Idea  of  a  University,  1875,  p.  385. 
-  Autobiography,  p.  67. 


:| 


j 


172 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


of  all  legislation  the  pursuit  of  'whatever  tends  to 
produce  wealth.'  '  From  Newman's  point  of  view, 
it  is  less  *a  religion'  than  the  antithesis  of  a 
religion,  for  the  end  which  it  proposes  to  men  is, 
briefly,  the  sum-total  of  all  the  seductions  by  which 
the  world  attracts  men  from  their  allegiance  to  the 
Church.  To  emphasise  and  enforce  this  distinction, 
to  show  that  the  Christian  morality  tramples  under 
foot  and  rejects  as  worthless  all  that  the  secular 
philosopher  values  as  most  precious,  is  the  purpose 
of  his  subtlest  logic  and  keenest  rhetoric.  The  con- 
trast between  the  prosperous  self-satisfied  denizen  of 
this  world  and  the  genuine  Christianity  set  forth  in 
the  types  of  the  *  humble  monk,  and  the  holy  nun,' 
is  ever  before  him.  In  their  *  calm  faces,  and  sweet 
plaintive  voices,  and  spare  frames,  and  gentle 
manners,  and  hearts  weaned  from  the  world,'  -^  he 
sees  the  embodiment  of  the  one  true  ideal. 

What  common  ground  can  there  be  between  such 
Christianity  and  the  religion  of  progress?  *Our 
race's  progress  and  perfectibility,'  he  says,  'is  a 
dream,  because  revelation  contradicts  it.'  ^  And  even 
if  there  were  no  explicit  contradiction,  how  could  the 
two  ideas  coalesce?  The  'foundation  of  all  true 
doctrine  as  to  the  way  of  salvation  '  is  the  *  great 
truth  '  of  the  corruption  of  man.  His  present  nature 
is  evil,  not  good,  and  produces  evil  things,  not  good 

'  Subjects  of  the  Day,  1844,  p.  98.  «  Ibid.  p.  328. 

'  Idea  of  a  University,  p.  73. 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


173 


things.'  His  improvement,  then,  if  he  improves, 
must  be  supernatural  and  miraculous,  not  the  spon- 
taneous working  of  his  natural  tendencies.  The 
very  basis  of  rational  hope  of  progress  is  struck 
away.  The  enthusiasm  which  that  hope  generates 
in  such  a  mind  as  Mill's  is  therefore  mere  folly— it 
is  an  empty  exultation  over  a  process  which,  when  it 
really  exists,  involves  the  more  effectual  weaning  of 
the  world  from  God.  In  his  sermons,  Newman  aims 
his  sharpest  taunts  at  the  superficial  optimism  of 
the  disciples  of  progress.  The  popular  religion  of  the 
day  forgets  the  'darker,  deeper  views'  (darker  be- 
cause deeper)  '  of  man's  condition  and  prospects.' 
Conscience,  the  fundamental  religious  faculty,  is  a 
'  stern,  gloomy  principle,'  and  therefore  systematically 
ignored  by  worldly  and  shallow  souls. ^  A  phrase, 
quoted  in  the  '  Apologia  '  ^  with  some  implied  apology 
for  its  vehemence,  is  but  a  vivid  expression  of  this 
sentiment.  It  is  his  '  firm  conviction  that  it  would  be 
a  gain  to  this  country  were  it  vastly  more  supersti- 
tious, more  bigoted,  more  gloomy,  more  fierce  in  its 
religion,  than  at  present  it  shows  itself  to  be/1.  The 
great  instrument  of  his  opponents  is  as  objectionable 
as  their  end  is  futile  and  their  temper  shallow.  The 
lovers  of  progress  found  their  hopes  on  the  influence 
of  illumination  in  dispelling  superstition.  '  Supersti- 
tion,' replies  Newman,  '  is  better  than  your  so-called 


'  Parochial  Sermons,  v.  154. 
*  Apologia,  p.  117. 


2  Ibid.  i.  359. 

*  Parochial  Servions,  i.  308. 


174 


NEWMAN'S   THEOKY  OF  BELIEF 


illumination.'  Superstition,  in  fact,  differs  from  re- 
ligion, not  in  the  temper  and  disposition  of  mind  which 
it  indicates,  but  in  the  authority  which  it  accepts  ;  it 
is  the  blind  man  groping  after  the  guiding  hand 
vouchsafed  to  him  in  revelation.^  The  world,  when 
trying  to  turn  to  its  Maker,  has  *  ever  professed  a 
gloomy  religion  in  spite  of  itself.'  Its  sacrifices,  its 
bodily  tortures,  its  fierce  delight  in  self-tormenting, 
testify  to  its  sense  of  guilt  and  corruption.     These 

*  dark  and  desperate  struggles  '  are  superstition  when 
set  beside  Christianity;  but  such  superstition  *  is 
man's  purest  and  best  religion  before  the  Gospel  shines 
on  him.'     To  be  gloomy,  to  see  ourselves  with  horror, 

*  to  wait  naked  and  shivering  among  the  trees  of  the 
garden  ...  in  a  word,  to  be  superstitious  is  Nature's 
best  offering,  her  most  acceptable  service,  her  most 
matured  and  enlarged  wisdom,  in  presence  of  a  holy 
and  offended  God.'  ^ 

The  contrast  is  drawn  out  most  systematically  in 
two  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  lectures  on  *  Anglican 
Difficulties '  (Nos.  VIII.  and  IX.).  They  contain 
some  of  the  passages  which  most  vexed  the  soul  of 
Kingsley,  to  whom  the  theory  was  but  partly 
intelligible,  and  altogether  abhorrent.  They  are 
answers  to  the  ordinary  objections  that  Catholicism 
is  hostile  to  progress  and  favourable  to  superstition. 
Newman    meets    the   objections— not   by  traversing 

*  See  Lectures  on  Justification,  1838,  pp.  364,  &c. 

*  Tlicory  of  Religious  Belief,  pp.  105-6. 


NEWMAN'S  THEOEY  OF  BELIEF 


175 


the    statements,    but    by   denying   their    relevancy. 
Catholic  countries  are,  let  us  grant,  less  civilised  than 
Protestant ;  ^  what  then  ?    The  office  of  the  Church 
is  to  save  souls,  not  to  promote  civilisation.     As  he 
had  said  whilst  still  a  Protestant  (for  this  is  no  theory 
framed  under  pressure  of  arguments,  but  a  primitive 
and  settled  conviction),  the  Church  does  not  seek  to 
make  men  good  subjects,  good  citizens,  good  members 
of  society,  not,  in  short,  to  secure  any  of  the  advan- 
tages which  the  Utilitarian  would  place  in  the  first 
rank,  but  to  make  them  members  of  the  New  Jeru- 
salem.-    The  two  objects  are  so   far  from  identical 
that  they  may  be  incompatible  ;  nay,  it  is  doubtful 
whether  *  Christianity  has  at  any  time  been  of  any 
great  spiritual  advantage  to  the  world  at  large.'  ^    It 
has  saved  individuals,  not  reformed  society.    Intellec- 
tual enlightenment  is  beyond   its  scope,   and  often 
hurtful  to  its  influence.     So  says  the  Protestant,  and 
fancies  that  he  has  aimed  a  blow  at  its  authority. 
Newman     again     accepts     his     statement     without 
hesitation.     In   truth,    Catholicism    often   generates 
mere  superstition,  and  allies  itself  with  falsehood, 
vice,  and  profanity.     What  if  it  does  ?    It  addresses 
the  conscience  first,  and  the  reason  through  the  con- 
science.     Superstition  proves  that  the  conscience  is 
still  alive.     If  divine  faith  is  found  in  alliance,  not 
merely  with  gross  conceptions,  but  with  fraud  and 

•  Anglican  Difficulties,  1850,  p.  201.     -'  Parochial  Sermons,  iv.  183. 
'  University  Sermons,  p.  40. 


176 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


cruelty,  that  proves  not,  as  the  Protestant  would  urge, 
that  good  Catholicism  may  sanction  vice,  but  that 
even  vice  cannot  destroy  Catholicism.  Faith  lays  so 
powerful  a  grasp  upon  the  soul,  that  it  survives  even 
in  the  midst  of  moral  and  mental  degradation,  where 
the  less  rigorous  creed  of  the  Protestant  would  be 
asphyxiated.  If  the  power  of  saving  souls  be  the  true 
test  of  the  utility  of  a  religion,  that  is  not  the  genuine 
creed  which  makes  men  most  decorous,  but  that 
which  stimulates  the  keenest  sensibility  to  the  in- 
fluences of  the  unseen  world.  The  hope  of  ultimate 
pardon  may  make  murder  more  frequent,  but  it  gives 
a  better  chance  of  saving  the  murderer's  soul  at  the 
very  foot  of  the  gallows. 

Applying  so  different  a  standard,  Newman 
comes  to  results  shocking  to  those  who  would  deny 
the  possibility  of  thus  separating  natural  virtue  from 
religion.  Such,  for  example,  is  the  contrast  between 
the  pattern  statesman,  honourable,  generous,  and 
conscientious  by  nature,  and  the  lazy,  slatternly,  lying 
beggarwoman  who  has  got  a  better  chance  of  heaven, 
because  in  her  may  dwell  a  seed  of  supernatural 
faith  ;  ^  or  the  admiring  picture  of  the  poor  nun 
who  *  points  to  God's  wounds  as  imprinted  on  her 
hands  and  feet  and  side,  though  she  herself  has  been 
instrumental  in  their  formation.' ^  She  is  a  liar 
or  a  hysterical  patient,  says  blunt  English  common- 
sense,  echoed  by  Kingsley  ;   but   Newman   condones 

*  Anglican  Di£lculties,  p.  207.  "  Ibid.  p.  238. 


^■" 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


177 


her  offence  in  consideration  of  the  lively  faith  from 
which  it  sprang.  On  his  version,  the  contrast  is  one 
between  the  world  and  the  Church,  between  care  for 
the  external  and  transitory,  and  care  for  the  inward 
and  eternal.  *  We,'  he  says,  *  come  to  poor  human 
nature  as  the  angels  of  God ;  you  as  policemen.' 
Nature  *  lies,  like  Lazarus,  at  your  gate,  full  of  sores. 
You  see  it  gasping  and  panting  with  privations  and 
penalties  ;  and  you  sing  to  it,  you  dance  to  it,  you 
show  it  your  picture-books,  you  let  off  your  fireworks, 
you  open  your  menageries.  Shallow  philosophers  !  Is 
this  mode  of  going  on  so  winning  and  persuasive 
that  we  should  imitate  it  ? ' '  We,  in  short,  are  the 
physicians  of  the  soul ;  you,  at  best,  the  nurses  of  the 
body. 

Newman,  so  far,  is  the  antithesis  of  Mill.  He 
accepts  that  version  of  Christianity  which  is  most 
diametrically  opposed  to  the  tendency  of  what  is 
called  modern  thought.  The  Zeitgeist  is  a  deluding 
spirit ;  he  is  an  incarnation  of  the  world,  the  flesh, 
and  the  devil.  That  two  eminent  thinkers  should 
differ  radically  in  their  estimate  of  the  world  and  its 
value,  that  the  Church  of  one  man's  worship  should  be 
the  prison  of  another  man's  reason,  is  not  surprising. 
Temperament  and  circumstance,  not  logic,  make  the 
difference  between  a  pessimist  and  an  optimist,  and 
social  conditions  have  a  more  powerful  influence  than 
speculation  in  giving  colour  to  the  creeds  of  the  day. 

'  Anglican  Difficulties,  p.  210. 

N 


<; 


•'m 


>A 


178 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY   OF  BELIEF 


Yet  we  may  fairly  ask  for  an  explanation  of  the  fact 
that  one  leader  of  men  should  express  his  conceptions 
by  symbols  which  have  lost  all  meaning  for  his  contem- 
porary. The  doctrine  which,  to  Mill,  seemed  hopelessly 
obsolete,  had  still  enough  vitality  in  the  mind  of 
Newman  to  throw  out  fresh  shoots  of  extraordinary 
vigour  of  growth.  To  account  for  such  phenomena 
by  calling  one  system  reactionary  is  to  make  the  facts 
explain  themselves.  The  stream  is  now  flowing  east 
because  it  was  before  flowing  west : — Such  a  reason 
can  only  satisfy  those  who  regard  all  speculation  as 
consisting  in  a  helpless  and  endless  oscillation  between 
antagonist  creeds.  To  attempt  any  adequate  explana- 
tion, however,  would  be  nothing  less  than  to  write  the 
mental  history  of  the  last  half-century.  A  more 
limited  problem  may  be  briefly  discussed.  What,  we 
may  ask,  is  the  logic  by  which,  in  the  last  resort, 
Newman  would  justify  his  conclusions  ?  The  reason- 
ing upon  which  he  relies  may  be  cause  or  effect ;  it 
may  have  prompted  or  been  prompted  by  the  osten- 
sible conclusions ;  but,  in  any  case,  it  may  show 
us  upon  what  points  he  comes  into  contact  with 
other  teachers.  No  one  can  quite  cut  himself  loose 
from  the  conditions  of  the  time ;  and  it  must  be 
possible  to  find  some  point  of  intersection  between 
the  two  lines  of  thought,  however  widely  they  may 
diverge. 

The  task  is  the  easier  because  Mill  is  not  separated 
from  Newman,  as  he  was  separated  from   Coleridge 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


179 


or  Maurice,  by  radical  differences  of  intellectual  tem- 
perament. Newman  is,  like  Mill,  a  lover  of  the  broad 
daylight;  of  clear,  definite,  tangible  statements. 
There  is  no  danger  with  him  of  losing  ourselves  in 
that  mystical  haze  which  the  ordinary  common-sense 
of  mankind  irritates  and  bewilders.  From  the  age  of 
fifteen,  he  tells  us,  dogma  has  been  the  fundamental 
principle  of  his  religion.^  Upon  this  point  he  has 
nothing  to  retract  or  to  repent.  *  Liberalism '  was  his 
enemy,  because  by  liberalism  he  meant  the  anti-dog- 
matic principle;  the  principle  which  would  convert 
religion  into  a  sentiment,  and  therefore,  for  him,  into 
a  dream  and  a  mockery.  No  one,  of  course,  could  be 
more  sensitive  to  the  mysterious  element  of  theology  ; 
but,  in  his  view,  that  dogma  is  not  the  less  definite  for 
being  mysterious.  If,  on  one  side,  it  leads  us  to  the 
abysses  where  the  highest  reason  faints,  yet,  on  the 
other,  it  may  serve  as  a  basis  for  truths  as  clear-cut 
and  peremptory  as  those  of  the  physical  sciences. 

The  resemblance  might  be  extended  to  another 
point.  Newman  has  a  scepticism  of  his  own,  which 
sometimes  coincides  with  and  sometimes  exceeds 
the  scepticism  of  Mill.  He  exceeds  it,  for  he  some- 
times sanctions  that  dangerous  mode  of  apology 
which  would  destroy  the  validity  of  the  reasoning 
process  itself  in  order  to  evade  reasonable  conclusions. 
Such,  for  example,  is  the  remarkable  passage  in  which 
he  meets  the  objection  from  the  incompatible  asser- 

'  Apologia,  p.  120. 

N  2 


180 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


181 


tions  of  Scripture  and  science  as  to  the  motion  of  the 
sun,  by  saying  that  till  we  know  what  motion  is  we  may 
suppose  both  the  apparently  contradictory  assertions 
to  be  true/'  So  again,  in  the  *  Grammar  of  Assent/ 
our  belief  in  the  uniformity  of  Nature  is  regarded  as 
an  illogical  conclusion  of  the  imagination, ^  a  doctrine 
which  he  shared  with  the  purely  empirical  school, 
but  pushes  to  a  practical  application  which  they  would 
regard  as  unauthorised.  Here,  as  in  so  many  cases, 
the  typical  dogmatist  is  more  sceptical  than  the 
typical  sceptic. 

It  is  more  noteworthy  that  Newman  frequently 
insists  upon  the  doctrine  that  physical  science  is  con- 
sistent with  atheism.  *It  is  a  great  question,'  he 
says,  *  whether  atheism  is  not  as  philosophically  con- 
sistent with  the  phenomena  of  the  physical  world  as 
the  doctrine  of  a  creative  and  governing  power.'  And, 
therefore,  he  admits  Hume's  argument  against 
miracles  to  be  valid  from  a  purely  scientific  aspect  of 
things.^  Elsewhere  he  admits  the  argument  from 
design  (though  not  the  argument  from  order)  to  be 
inconclusive.^  The  statement,  however  qualified,  falls 
in  with  the  common  assertion  that  a   logical   mind 

'  Tiieory  of  Religiotis  Belief,  p.  350.  This  sentence,  says  Froude, 
in  the  Nemesis  of  Faith,  finally  destroyed  his  faith  in  Newman 
{Nemesis  of  Faith,  p.  158,  second  edition). 

2  Grammar  of  Assent  (second  edition,  1878),  pp.  78,  355. 

»  University  Sermons,  p.  194 ;  also  in  TJwory  of  Religious  Belief, 
pp.  186-7. 

*  University  Sermons,  p.  70.  It  is  right  to  add  Newman's  quali- 
fication of  this  statement :  'Physical  phenomena  taken  by  tJiemselves, 


must  embrace  either  atheism  or  Catholicism.^  The 
powerful  passage  which  opens  the  *  General  Answer  to 
Mr.  Kingsley  '  in  the  *  Apologia,'  admits  not  only  that 
it  is  hard  to  state  the  argument  for  theism  with  pre- 
cise logical  shape,  but  that  a  contemplation  of  the 
world  would  lead  to  *  atheism,  pantheism,  or  poly- 
theism,' were  it  not  for  the  Divine  voice  which  is 
uttered  through  the  conscience.'  Either  there  is  no 
God,  or  He  is  sej)arated  from  His  creatures.  The 
world  is  *  out  of  joint  with  the  purposes  of  its  Creator.' 
Hume  would  infer  that  we  cannot  argue  to  a  God 
from  the  world  ;  Newman,  that  as  we  know  of  a  God, 
we  must  postulate  a  mysterious  separation. 

Although  Newman  is  as  certain  of  God's  exist- 
ence as  his  own,  it  is  plain  that  much  of  this  falls 
in  with  the  argument,  for  example,  of  Mill's  essay  on 
Theism.  His  conviction  is  founded  on  a  voice  to 
which  atheists  are  deaf ;  but  in  the  interpretation  of 
the  testimony  open  to  both  parties,  the  divergence 
is  only  one  of  degree.  There  is,  however,  a  character- 
istic difference  in  the  mode  of  approaching  the  pro- 
blem. Though  Newman's  writings  abound  in  acute 
logical  discussions,  they  deal  very  little  with  the  purely 

that  is,  apart  from  psychological  phenomena,  apart  from  moral  con- 
siderations, apart  from  the  moral  principles  by  which  they  must  be 
interpreted,  and  apart  from  the  idea  of  God,  which  wakes  up  in  the 
mind  under  the  stimulus  of  intellectual  training.  The  question  is, 
whether  physical  phenomena  logically  teach  us,  or,  on  the  other 
hand,  logically  remind  us,  of  the  being  of  a  God.'— Note  to  Univer- 
sity Sernums,  p.  194. 

»  Apologia,  p.  323.  2  j^j^,  pp,  377^  37^^ 


\^'' 


i'M^^ 


182 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


philosophical  question.  There  is  no  direct  argument, 
for  example,  as  to  the  various  metaphysical  reasonings 
upon  which  theism  has  been  defended  or  impugned. 
Such  arguments  have,  of  course,  presented  themselves 
to  his  mind  ;  but  they  have  not  sunk  into  it,  and  modi- 
fied the  structure  of  his  thought.  He  denounces  pan- 
theism, atheism,  and  other  forms  of  unbelief,  but  is  not 
interested  in  their  origin  or  logical  meaning.  He  takes 
for  granted  that  his  hearers  think  of  them  with  horror, 
and  possibly  he  feels  himself  that  there  would  be  irre- 
verence in  the  open  discussion  of  such  sacred  topics. 

His  scepticism  is  of  the  historical  variety.  It 
implies  the  profound  conviction  that,  although  a 
reality  as  well  as  a  show  of  demonstration  is  pro- 
ducible to  duly-prepared  minds  for  the  central  doctrine 
of  the  faith,  yet,  as  a  matter  of  plain,  undeniable  fact, 
no  system  of  independent  demonstrative  theology, 
such  as  philosophers  have  dreamed,  has  ever  esta- 
blished itself  in  the  world.  Theology  cannot  assume  a 
place  amongst  the  sciences,  which  rest  on  their  own 
basis,  and  require  no  adventitious  aids  to  commend 
themselves  to  the  unassisted  intellect.  Perhaps  men 
ought  to  be,  but  they  are  not  in  fact,  convinced  by  the 
whole  array  of  theological  argument. 

Some  such  scepticism  is  implied  in  that  historical 
method  which,  in  one  shape  or  other,  is  the  great  inno- 
vating instrument  of  modern  thinkers.  Mill's  weak 
side  is,  perhaps,  his  inadequate  appreciation  of  its 
efficacy  and  applicability.     The  school,  on  the  other 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


183 


hand,  of  which  Newman  is  the  chief  leader  owes 
what  philosophical  interest  it  possesses  chiefly  to  its 
sense  of  the  continuity  of  history,  and  consequently 
of  the  importance  of  an  historical  mode  of  approaching 
religious  and  other  problems.  Doctrines  of  evolution, 
development,  and  so  on,  from  which  the  historical 
method  is  a  corollary,  imply  that  further  light  is  to 
be  sought  by  a  more  systematic  interrogation  of  a 
wider  experience,  and,  consequently,  fall  in  with  the 
belief  that  the  attempts  to  settle  the  plan  of  the  uni- 
verse by  direct  inspection  of  ideas  existing  ready-made 
in  our  own  minds  are  doomed  to  inevitable  failure. 
It  is  needless  to  speak  of  the  potency  of  the  new 
method,  which  has  for  the  first  time  rendered  possible 
an  approach  to  a  scientific  treatment  of  religious, 
ethical,  and  political  problems.  Perhaps  it  is  more  to 
the  purpose  to  note  briefly  that  it  is  a  natural  but 
mischievous  illusion  to  infer  that  such  riiethods  can 
dispense  with  philosophy.  The  logic  of  facts  does  not 
lie  on  the  surface,  to  be  picked  up  by  the  first  observer 
who  comes  by,  but  requires  a  collateral  process  of 
preparing  and  testing  and  corresponding  logical  ap- 
paratus. Newman's  writings  seem  to  afford  many 
curious  illustrations  of  the  consequences  of  this 
erroneous  application  of  a  sound  method,  and  the 
fallacies  into  which  the  subtlest  thinker  may  fall  when 
his  mind  is  not  carefully  guarded  against  the  pre- 
possessions which  make  historical  arguments  illusory. 
Certain  significant  tendencies  reveal  themselves  in 


184 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


his  earlier  writings.     Virtually  ignoring  infidelity,  he 
recognises    his    chief    adversary    in    popular    Pro- 
testantism.     *  This  great  and   deadly  foe,'  he  says, 
speaking  of    his   former  allies  after  his  own   con- 
version, '  their   scorn  and  their  laughing-stock,  was 
that  imbecile,   inconsistent  thing  called  Protestant- 
ism.' •     The   special   ground   of  this   scorn   may  be 
gathered  from  the  '  Lectures  on  Justification.'     They 
are,  indeed,  by  no  means  easy  reading,  for  every  page 
indicates  the    nature    of    the    author's    intellectual 
food.     Extinct  controversies  are  resuscitated  ;  we  plod 
through  weary  scholastic  distinctions  and  refinements 
derived  from  our  outworn  metaphysical  systems ;  and 
when  reason,  perplexed  by  these   subtleties,  fails  to 
discriminate  the  blended  elements  of  grace  and  nature, 
we   are  ordered   to   prostrate  ourselves   before   long 
chains  of  texts,  where  criticism  would  be  profanity. 
We  are  expressly  warned,  indeed,^  against  '  philoso- 
phising,' or  trying  to  reach  ^general  views,' instead 
of  entering  the  *  strait   and  lowly  gate  of  the   Holy 
Jerusalem '  with  bowed  heads  and  eyes  bent  to  the 
earth.     Had  Newman  never  emerged  from  this  region 
of  theological  special  pleading,  the  eloquence  which 
occasionally  animates  the  logic  would  not  have  saved 
his  works  from  the  moths. 

The  essence,  however,  of  his  criticism  is  clear  and 
to  the  purpose.  He  argues  that  the  Protestant  doc- 
trine of  faith  is  an  unfounded  theory,  and  that  hence 

»  Anglica7i  Difficulties,  p.  120.      "^  Justification  (1838),  p.  323. 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


185 


I 


the  whole  theology  reared  upon  it  is  *  shadowy  and 
unreal ' ;  ^  whilst  the  creed  is  a  dry  heap  of  technical 
jargon,  the  practical  tendency  is  to  reduce  religion  to 
a  mere  sentiment.  As  the  Lutheran  leaven  spread, 
he  says  elsewhere,^  faith  became  severed  from  truth 
and  knowledge,  and  religion  degenerated  into  a  senti- 
mental pietism.  Luther  tried  (that  is  the  summary 
of  his  historical  view  in  the  lectures  on  Justification)^ 
to  save  men  from  the  bondage  to  works  and  observ- 
ances by  his  doctrine  of  faith ;  but  he  left  them  in 
bondage  to  their  feelings.  He  introduced  a  more  subtle 
shape  of  self-reliance,  by  dispensing  with  the  ordinances 
of  the  Church  in  favour  of  certain  personal  emotions. 
Whatever  the  force  of  this  criticism  as  against 
Luther  or  modern  Protestants,  it  simply  ignores  the 
philosophical  difiiculty.  Luther's  attack  upon  *  works 
and  observances  '  had  logical  consequences  which  he 
did  not  contemplate.  The  assertion  that  man  can 
have  no  merit  as  towards  his  Creator  fits  into  a 
philosophy  which  is  radically  destructive,  not  only  of 
the  abuses  of  an  ecclesiastical  system,  but  of  the  very 
groundwork  of  all  such  systems.  It  is  blasphemous, 
says  the  Protestant,  to  suppose  that  the  performance 
of  an  outward  rite  can  alter  the  position  of  a  man  in 
the  eyes  of  God,  and  that  dipping  a  child  in  water  can 
affect  its  spiritual  condition.  Man  must  be  judged 
by  his  intrinsic  nature,  not  by  the  accidents  of  his 

*  Justification,  p.  300.     -'  Idea  of  a  University  (fourth  edit.),  p.  28. 

^  Justification,  p.  389. 


11^ 

1 1 


186 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


position.  But,  if  so,  his  works  can  be  valuable  only 
as  the  fruit  of  his  nature  ;  and  since  he  did  not  make 
his  own  nature,  he  cannot  be  responsible  for  it. 
Eeciprocal  claims  between  the  pots  and  the  potter  are 
radically  absurd.  Thus,  attacking  the  supernatural 
claim  of  the  Church,  you  are  inevitably  gliding  into 
pantheism;  for  you  are,  in  fact,  substituting  the 
philosophical  conception  of  a  first  cause  for  the 
anthropomorphic  conception  implied  in  the  whole 
ecclesiastical  system. 

The  tendency  of   their  own  logic  was  concealed 
from  Protestants  by  their  use  of  the  old  phraseology. 
Such  doctrines  as  that  of  imputed  merit  really  meant 
the  denial  of  all  real  merit,  along  with  the  affectation  of 
preserving  it  as  a  mere  legal  fiction.     The  Protestants 
of  later  times  preserved  the  mask  whilst   they  lost 
the  living  force  beneath.      Their  serious  arguments 
fell  to  the  rationalists,  whilst  they  clung  to  the  set  of 
phrases  under  which  the  meaning  had  been  covered. 
And   thus   Newman,  ignoring  throughout  the  philo- 
sophical  objection,   has   a    cheap  victory  over    the 
feeble  deposit  of  barren  technicality  which  had  been 
left   behind.      He   can   tear   to  pieces,  with  leonine 
vigour,  the  mere  suits  of  clothes,  when  the  man  has 
stepped  out  of  them.     Protestantism,  in  fact,  was  an 
unstable   compound  of     elements   which   refused   to 
enter  into  permanent  combination.     The  rationalism 
and  the  inherited  superstition  had  decomposed,  giving 
rise  in  the  process  to  all  manner  of  heterogeneous 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


187 


products,   each   containing  in   itself    a   principle   of 
antagonism  and  decay. 

Here,  then,  we  have  the  implicit  application  of  a 
course  of  criticism  which   became,  as  we  shall  see, 
the  leading  principle   of   Newman's   method.      Any 
student   of   his   controversial   writings,  such  as   the 
'Prophetical  Office  of  the  Church'  and  the  *  Essay 
on  Development,'  which  mark  successive  stages  of  his 
opinions,  must  be  struck  by  one  remark.     Newman, 
he  will  say,  is  an  Anglican,  or  has  become  a  Catholic. 
Why  does  he  not  defend  himself  by  proving  his  creed 
to  be  true  ?  Let  him  apply  a>n  a  priori  or  Si.n  a  posteriori 
test,  as  he  pleases  ;  exhibit  its  philosophical  founda- 
tion,  or  accept  any   straightforward   mode   of  con- 
fronting it  with  facts.     But,  instead  of  this  apparently 
most  natural  method,  we  are  involved  in  a  laborious 
indirect  process.    Instead  of  examining,  with  an  earlier 
school  of  apologists,  the  evidence  external  or  internal 
of  the  position,  our  attention  is  invited  at  length  to 
apparently  superficial  analogies,  such  as  the  relation 
between  Anglicans  and  semi-Arians,  or  to  the  question 
of  the  internal  consistency  of   the  creed,  instead  of 
its   correspondence   to   facts.     A   false   theory,  it  is 
obvious  to  remark,  may  within  its  own  limits  be  as 
consistent  as  a  true  one:    the    Ptolemaic    as   the 
Copernican  astronomy ;  and  we  test  their  merits  by 
seeking  for  facts  compatible  with   one  alone  of   the 
rival  doctrines.     Why  not  apply  the  same  method  to 
theological  controversy  ? 


r" 


188 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


The  answer  has  been  already  virtually  suggested. 
Some  such  method  is  necessary  when  approaching 
the  problem  from  the  historical  side.  The  historical 
scepticism  assumes  that  direct  methods  of  proof  are 
practically  inconclusive  in  such  matters.  History 
seems  to  show,  on  a  first  inspection,  that  all  philo- 
sophies have  been  defended  with  equal  plausibility, 
and  generate  endless  and  internecine  controversy. 
But  it  suggests  at  the  same  time  another  kind  of 
test.  For  questions  as  to  the  logical  validity,  we 
may  substitute  questions  as  to  the  practical  vitality 
of  creeds.  If  we  assume  that  creeds  live  in  pro- 
portion to  the  amount  of  truth  which  they  contain, 
the  plainest  facts  written  on  the  very  surface  of  his- 
tory will  tell  us  which  are  the  truest.  Newman's 
theory  of  development  has  a  real  analogy  to  the 
scientific  theories  which  use  the  same  name.  The 
development  of  a  system  of  belief  may  be  compared 
to  the  development  of  a  species  under  natural  selec- 
tion. Amongst  the  varieties  of  belief  which  are 
constantly  generated,  some  have  and  some  have  not 
the  vital  force  necessary  to  secure  their  permanence. 
Some  creeds,  again,  survive  for  a  period,  though  their 
principle  of  life  is  rather  artificial  than  natural. 
They  are  analogous  to  the  breeds  of  animals  which 
are  maintained  by  cultivation,  that  is,  by  being  kept 
by  external  force  under  a  special  set  of  conditions. 
They  live  in  our  gardens,  but  would  perish  or  revert 
to  the  original  type  if  transplanted  to  the  woods.     As 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


189 


the  gardener  manages  to  preserve  a  hybrid  plant  in 
his  hot-houses,  the  statesman  preserves  the  artificial 
equilibrium   of  a   body  which,  left   to  itself,  would 
split  into  its  natural  elements.     There  could  not  be 
a  better  commentary  upon  this  theory  than  in  the 
opening  lectures  upon  Anglican  Difficulties.     There 
are,  he  says,  various  kinds  of  life.     '  The  life  of  a 
plant  is  not  the  same  as  the  life  of  an  animated  being : 
and  the  life  of  the  body  is  not  the  same  as  the  life 
of  the  intellect;   nor  is  the  life  of  the  intellect  the 
same  in  kind  as  the  life  of  grace ;  nor  is  the  life  of 
the  Church  the  same  as  the  Hfe  of  the  State.'     And 
he  proceeds  to  argue,  with  admirable  vigour,  that  the 
life  of   the  Church  of   England   is   something  quite 
different  from  the  life  of  the  CathoHc  Church.     The 
difference  is,  briefly,  that  the  Church  of  England  is 
analogous  to  an  artificial  rather  than  a  natural  pro- 
duct.    It  is  Erastian  in  principle  ;  it  is  held  together 
by  Acts  of  Parliament,  and  is  an  engine  created  of 
statesmen   in   aid   of   the  pohceman.     It  is  not  the 
incarnation  of  a  system  of   thought,  possessing  an 
independent  vitality,  and  moulding  the  society  which 
it  animates. 

So  soon  as  Newman  had  fairly  grasped  his 
method,  such  a  conclusion  was  so  obvious  that  one 
rather  wonders  that  he  should  not  have  reached  it 
sooner.  The  *  Lectures  on  the  Prophetical  Office  of 
the  Church'  represent  the  most  coherent  phase  of 
his  Anglican  teaching.     He  still  inclines  to  the  view 


190 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY   OF   BELIEF 


that  Kome  is  Antichrist,  but  assigns  as  a  main 
reason  of  this  theory  that  very  fact  of  the  extreme 
plausibility,  soon  to  become  the  conclusive  logical 
force,  of  its  pretensions.  The  book,  thrice  rewritten, 
and  the  product  of  three  years'  labour,^  shows  by  its 
tentative  and  hesitating  tone,  and  even  by  the  eager- 
ness with  which  some  Romanist  dogmas  are  assailed, 
the  uncertainty  of  its  author's  position.  The  ground 
under  his  feet  has  a  hollow  sound.  The  method  is 
significant  of  the  principles  already  indicated.  Pro- 
testantism, he  says  in  the  introduction,  has  shown 
by  its  history  that  it  tends  to  infidelity.-  And  the 
reason  is  clear.  Controversies  with  Protestants  are 
*  easy  to  handle,  but  interminable,  being  disputes 
about  opinions :  but  those  with  Romanists  arduous, 
but  instructive,  as  relating  rather  to  matters  of  fact.'^ 
In  other  words,  philosophising  tends  to  hopeless 
scepticism ;  and  the  remedy  is  the  appeal  to  history. 
Private  judgment,  as  he  argues  at  length, '  is  liable  to 
so  many  illusions  that  it  cannot  lead  to  agreement. 
We  must,  therefore,  turn  to  the  old  Catholic  test  of 
Vincentius,  and  try  to  discover  what  is  that  doctrine 
which  has  been  held  *  always,  everywhere,  and  by  all.' 
To  apply  this  test  is  to  show  historically  that  the 
Church  of  England  may  be  legitimately  affiliated  to 
that  primitive  Church  whose  unity  was  a  visible  and 
palpable  phenomenon,  not  a  matter  of  careful   in- 


^  Apologia,  p.  140. 
=«  Ibid.  p.  50. 


2  Proplietical  Office  (1837),  p.  25. 
*  Ibid.  Led.  V. 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


191 


ference  and  accommodation.     The  difficulties  of  such 
a  task  are  candidly  admitted  in  the  introduction,  and 
are  obvious  in  the  very  structure  of  the  book.     For, 
in  the  first  place,  we  are  led  to  so  complex  a  theory 
as  to  the  mode  of  combining  the  authority  of  Scrip- 
ture, antiquity,  and  Catholicity,  and  confining  within 
due  limits  the  exercise  of  private  judgment,  that  we 
are  evidently  in  presence  of  an  artificial,  and  there- 
fore easily  destructible,  theory.^     And,  in  the   next 
place,  whatever  may  be  said  for  the  ria  media  which 
results  from  this  eclectic  method,  and  however  clearly 
it  may  be  traced  to  the  great  English  divines  of  the 
seventeenth   century,  it   is   open   to   the   conclusive 
objection  that  it  has  '  never  existed  except  on  paper.'^ 
Newman   candidly  puts  this    difficulty  in    its    full 
force,  and  admits  that  its  advocates  may  seem  to  be 
*  mere  antiquarians  and  pedants,  amusing  themselves 
with   illusions  or  learned   subtleties,  and   unable  to 
grapple   with   things   as   they  are.     We   tender   no 
proofs  to  show  that  our  view  is  not  self-contradictory, 
and,  if   set  in  motion,  would  not  fall   to  pieces,  or 
start  off  in  different  directions  at  once.'     Admitting 
that  there  is  force  in  these  objections,  he  still  thinks 
the  experiment  of  forming  such  a  creed  worth  trying, 
and  urges  some  historical  considerations  to  show  that 
Anglicanism   has   really  enjoyed   some   independent 
vitality.     It    is   not,   however,   by   a   doctrine  thus 
hesitatingly  announced,   criticised  so  freely  by  its 


'  Proplietical  O/fice,  p.  IGO. 


-  Ibid.  p.  20. 


UWili.^W 


192 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


193 


teacher,  and  openly  admitted  to  be  in  some  sense  an 
experiment,  that  serious  thinkers  are  to  be  attracted, 
or  the  creeds  of  the  mass  moulded  and  dominated. 
The  vital  inconsistency  which  underlies  the  whole 
could  not  be  expressed  more  vigorously  than  by  its 
author  at  a  later  period.  Turning  unsparingly  upon 
those  who  had  stopped  at  the  point  from  which  he 
advanced,  he  asks  them  some  unanswerable  questions. 
Their  religion,  he  says,  is  eclectic  and  original,  and 
yet  they  claim  the  authority  of  Catholic  prescription. 
*  Say  you  go  by  any  authority  whatever,  and  I  shall 
know  where  to  find  you.  .  .  .  But  do  not  come  to 
me  with  the  latest  phase  of  opinion  which  the  world 
has  seen,  and  protest  to  me  that  it  is  the  oldest.' 
The  Anglo-Catholic  admits  that  he  has  begun  by 
doubting  the  authority  of  some  creed  in  which  he  was 
bred.  Then  he  read  the  Fathers,  and  determined 
which  of  their  works  were  genuine  ;  *  which  of  them 
apply  to  all  times,  and  which  are  occasional ;  what 
opinions  are  private,  what  authoritative ;  what  they 
only  seem  to  hold,  what  they  ought  to  hold ;  what 
are  fundamental,  what  ornamental.  Having  thus 
measured,  and  cut,  and  put  together  my  creed  by  my 
own  proper  intellect,  by  my  own  lucubrations,  and 
differing  from  the  whole  world  in  my  results,  I  dis- 
tinctly bid  you,  I  solemnly  warn  you,  not  to  do  as  I 
have  done,  but  to  take  what  I  have  found,  to  revere 
it,  to  use  it,  to  believe  it,  for  it  is  the  teaching  of 
the  old  Fathers,  and  of  your  mother,  the  Church  of 


f 


England.'  ^  The  end  of  such  a  creed  holds,  it  is 
clear,  no  proportion  with  the  beginning.  You  claim 
for  a  mere  arbitrary  patchwork  the  authority  due  to 
an  organic  system  of  ideas  which  can  prove  its 
vitality  by  the  *  active  unity  and  integrating  virtue  '  ^ 
of  the  Church  of  which  it  has  been  the  animating 
principle. 

Newman,  then,  had  been  on  a  false  scent.    He 
had  been  really  in  search  of  a  creed  which  might 
claim  to  have  been   the  soul  of  a  flourishing  and 
vigorous    organism.    He    had   found   only  a  creed 
which,  if  it  had  ever  been  a  working  force,  might 
have  justified  the  claim  of  the  Church  which  held  it 
to  be  the  most  legitimate  offshoot  of  such  an  organism. 
To  recognise  the  fact  that  he  had  been  put  off  with 
vacant  chaff  in  place  of  grain,  and  taken  a  mechanism 
for  a  vital  growth,  was  with  him  to  become  a  Catholic  ; 
and  the  essay  on  Development  shows  the  form  in 
which   the    final    solution    presented    itself    to    his 
mind. 

The  years  following  the  composition  of  the  '  Pro- 
phetical Office'  were  devoted  to  various  works,  his- 
torical and  speculative,  which  had  more  or  less 
bearing  upon  the  via  media  theory.  That  theory 
suddenly  and  totally  collapsed,  and  the  blow  came 
from  a  remarkable  quarter.  The  first  doubt  was 
suggested  by  the  history  of  the  Monophysite  con- 
troversy.    The  final  catastrophe  was  brought  about 


'  Anglican  Difficulties,  p.  134. 


Ibid.  p.  258. 


O 


194 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


NEAVMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


195 


\ 


by  the  affair  of  the  Jerusalem  bishopric.^  Newman 
himself  has  a  quiet  smile  at  the  apparent  oddity 
of  a  conversion  occasioned  by  the  study  of  that  delirus 
senex  *old  Eutyches,'  and  by  so  futile  a  project  as 
the  Jerusalem  scheme.  One  may  remark  in  passing, 
that  whilst  Newman  was  thus  occupied  with  eccle- 
siastical history,  Mill  was  working  into  shape  his 
theory  of  induction.  The  same  years  saw  the  incuba- 
tion of  the  system  of  Logic  and  the  theory  of  Develop- 
ment. The  importance  attached  by  Newman  to 
apparently  trifling  points  is  a  natural  consequence  of 
his  point  of  view.  The  great  discoveries  of  science 
may  depend  upon  the  careful  examination  of  some 
insignificant  phenomenon.  And  if  we  contemplate 
Catholicism,  in  a  similar  way,  as  one  of  the  greatest 
facts  in  the  world's  history,  we  may  find  the  most 
unequivocal  manifestation  of  its  laws  of  growth  in 
some  apparently  trifling  series  of  events.  Kenouncing 
the  attempt  to  judge  of  its  doctrine  by  direct  tests,  we 
have  to  consider  how  the  organism  behaves  itself 
under  given  conditions.  It  is  not  the  magnitude  of 
the  event,  but  its  fitness  to  test  the  assumed  principle, 
which  is  important  in  this  relation.  The  history  of 
the  Monophysite  controversy  served  as  the  record  of 
an  experiment  judiciously  devised  to  lay  bare  certain 
principles  whose  bearing  might  afterwards  be  verified 
on  a  larger  scale. 

The  purpose  of  the  theory  of  Development  is  to 

'  Apologia^  pp.  209,  245. 


exhibit  by  historical  facts  what  he  elsewhere  calls  the 
'active  unity  and  integrating  virtue  of  the   see  of 
Peter.'    It  records   the  process  by  which  Newman 
convinced  himself  that  the  Catholic  faith  differs  from 
the  doctrine  of  Anglicanism  as  a  living  organism  from 
a  dead  mechanism.     The  method,  once  more,  implies 
the    old   scepticism.     Newman    does    not    say    that 
there  are  no  *  eternal  truths  ....  which  all  acknow- 
ledge in  private,'  but  that  there  are  none  sufficiently 
commanding  to  be  the  basis  of  public  union  and 
action.     The  only  general  persuasive  in  matters  of 
conduct  is  authority ;  that  is,  when  truth  is  in  ques- 
tion, a  judgment  which  we  consider  superior  to  our 
own.^     We  must  not,  therefore,  prove  the  doctrine, 
but  discover  the  authority,  for  authority  is,  in  a  sense, 
self-evidencing.     Its    historical    manifestation,    its 
demonstrable    unity,    efficacy,   and   persistency   will 
establish  its  claims  upon  our  allegiance.     Newman's 
method  is,  therefore,  to  trace  these  attributes  in  the 
history  of  the  Church.     In  his  language,  this  is  to 
prove  that  Catholic  theology  is  a  legitimate  develop- 
ment, instead  of  a  corruption,  of  the  primitive  faith. 
The  tests  which  he  appHes,  though  they  do  not  affect 
to  be  discriminated  with  logical  accuracy,  indicate  the 
result  sufficiently. 

The  first  test  of  a  true  development  is  the  obvious 
one  of  the  preservation  of  the  type.  A  corruption 
destroys,  as  a  development  preserves,  the  essential 

*  Development  (1845),  p.  128. 

o  2 


^'^^9 


196 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


197 


idea  of  a  system.    The  second,  is  the  continuity  o! 
principles.     Doctrines  expand  according  to  the  pecu- 
liarities of   the  receiving  mind  and  society  ;  but,  so 
long  as  they  are  true  to  their  law,  they  have  a  certain 
character  or  genius,  which  can  be  felt  when  it  cannot 
be  explained.    In  fact,  a  breach  of  continuity  would 
be  marked  by  a  discord  corresponding  to  some  hidden 
inconsistency    in   the  theory.     Thirdly,    as  in   the 
physical  world  life  implies  growth,  so  doctrines,  like 
organisms,  must  have  a  power  of  assimilation  ;  and 
the  more  vigorous  the  growth  the  greater  the  power. 
Fourthly,  a  true  development  implies  anticipations, 
for  we  shall  often  detect  the  rudimentary  germs  of 
the  principles  which  are  afterwards  fully  incorporated. 
Fifthly,   true  development  implies  logical  sequence. 
Ideas  grow  in  the  mind  of  a  man  or  of  society  by  a 
spontaneous  and  silent  process,  not  by  direct  conscious 
reasoning.    But  when  they  have  thus  grown,  they 
are,   if   legitimate,   capable  of    being   analysed    and 
methodised  by  the  logical  faculty.     The  process  is  not 
carried  on  systematically,  but  the  logical  character  of 
the  result  reached  by   spontaneous   co-operation  of 
many  minds  is  a  test  that  it  has  been  *  a  true  develop- 
ment, not  a  perversion  or  corruption,  from  its  evident 
naturalness.*  ^     Their  growth  has  been  moulded,  one 
may  say,  by  an  implicit  logic,  which  comes  to  light 
when  the  whole  is  complete.     Sixthly,  a  true  develop- 
ment implies  that  the  added  doctrines  are  preservative 

»  Development^  p.  82. 


I 


of  the  original  creed.  They  corroborate  and  illustrate, 
instead  of  contradicting  or  arresting.  And,  seventhly, 
we  have  the  test  of  chronic  continuance.  A  heresy 
includes  a  principle  of  inconsistency,  and  therefore 
dies  out  in  a  comparatively  short  period.  It  has  not 
the  true  vital  principle,  but  is  an  unstable  amalgam 
of  truth  with  error. 

Supposing  that  Newman  is  accurate  in  the  appli- 
cation of   his    tests,    the  cogency  of  the  argument 
is  undeniable.     The  only  complaint,  indeed,  is  that  it 
is  not  pushed  far  enough.     He  has  called  attention  to 
a  most  important  method ;  and  though  he  is  naturally 
anxious  to  disclaim  originality,  it  may  be  presumed 
that  the  principle  had  at  least  never  been  stated  with 
any  approach  to  the  same  fulness  and  vigour.     The 
historical  test,  thus  understood,  supplies  us  with  a 
stringent  method   for    philosophical    investigations. 
The  facts  that  a  creed  will  *  work,'  that  a   certain 
intellectual   harmony  exists   amongst  its  adherents 
which  enables  them  unconsciously  to  arrive  at  logically 
coherent  results,  that  it  can  assimilate  beneficial  and 
eject  hurtful  materials,  that  it  can  be  regarded  as  a 
whole  in  such  a  sense  that  we  can  trace  the  rise  of 
component  doctrines  from  their  earliest  germs  to  their 
fullest  expression,  that  it  has  a  vitality  denied  to  its 
occasional  offshoots,  prove  undoubtedly  that  it  is  a  real 
creed,  and  not  a  mere  sham    and   mechanical   con- 
trivance.    Everyone  who  feels  the  utter  impossibility 
of  attaining  to  a  true  philosophy  by  his  own  unaided 


■«*r 


198 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


NEAVMAN'S  THEORY  OF   BELIEF 


199 


exertions,  who  realises  the  extent  to  which  the  in- 
dividual must  depend  upon  the  race  for  his  doctrines 
as  well  as  his  material  wants,  must  feel  that  the  only 
alternative  to  complete  scepticism  is,  as  Newman 
urges,  the  affiliation  of  his  own  beliefs  to  some  such 
system  of  belief.  Truth  can  only  be  definitively 
established  when  it  has  been  exposed  to,  and  fully 
answered,  the  application  of  such  tests  in  the  widest 
possible  sense.  Verification  by  an  individual  is  not 
comparable  to  verification  by  ages  or  generations. 
The  voice  of  mankind  must  override  the  opinion  of 
the  acutest  solitary  thinker.  And,  further,  the  argu- 
ment as  against  Anglicanism  and  via  media  con- 
trivances might  well  appear  conclusive.  If  truth,  and 
the  whole  truth,  is  to  be  found  in  either  system,  it 
must  certainly  be  in  the  living  system,  and  not  in  the 
accidental  aggregate  of  dogmas  put  together  by  states- 
men and  eclectic  reasoners. 

Newman  naturally  contemplated  nothing  wider 
than  this  contrast.  Protestantism  he  rejected  because 
he  held— and  surely  with  justice — that  history  proved 
it  to  be  the  half-way  house  to  infidelity.  The  choice 
thus  lay  between  Anglicanism  and  Catholicism.  But 
suppose  that  we  do  not  shrink  from  the  rationalist 
solution,  the  argument  loses  its  cogency.  For,  in  the 
first  place,  it  is  obvious  to  remark  that  the  harmony 
and  vitality  of  Catholicism  implies  a  relative,  not  an 
absolute,  value.  It  shows  that  the  creed  was  con- 
sistent, not  that  it  was  true ;  that  it  was  fitted  for  a 


certain  stage  of  development,  not  that  it  represents 
the  final  stage.  In  fact,  it  is  clear  that  a  similar 
harmony  may  be  obtained  from  Fetichist,  or  Poly- 
theist,  or  Pantheist  points  of  view.  It  shows  that 
certain  fundamental  conceptions  underlie  every  appli- 
cation of  the  theory,  and  produce  harmonious  results, 
not  that  those  conceptions  are  incapable  of  modifica- 
tion or  destruction.  The  creed  flourishes  so  long  as 
they  are  alive.  But  are  they  immortal  ?  The  logical 
superiority  challenged  for  Catholicism  over  Pro- 
testantism exists  in  this  sense,  that  Catholicism  is  a 
consistent  development  of  ideas  natural  and  universal 
at  certain  stages  of  thought,  whereas  Protestantism 
combines  ideas  characteristic  of  different  stages. 
Hence,  the  Protestant  is  constantly  re-opening  ques- 
tions which  the  Catholic  begs  once  for  all.  His  creed 
is  less  coherent,  but  it  does  not  even  tend  to  follow 
that  the  part  of  it  which  he  derives  from  the  Catholic 
is  the  solid  part.  If  atheism  and  Catholicism  are 
both  logically  coherent,  and  if,  we  may  add,  the  same 
may  be  said  for  every  form  of  religion  which  has 
satisfied  Newman's  test  of  vitality,  we  are  evidently 
only  at  the  threshold  of  our  inquiry.  We  have 
lessened  the  number  of  candidates  ;  we  have  reduced 
possible  religions  to  a  certain  number  of  types  ;  but 
we  have  still  to  choose  between  them. 

And,  secondly,  it  is  obvious  that,  in  seeking  to 
defend  Catholicism,  Newman  has  really  explained 
it.     He  has  incidentally  observed  (in  a  passage  just 


200 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


quoted),   that  a   development  is   legitimate  because 
natural.     That  is  precisely  the  point  of  the  whole. 
The  imposing  unity  of  the  Catholic  Church  is  the 
gi'ound  upon  which  its  advocates  have  always  relied  ; 
and  their  ordinary  arguments  tend  to  imply  that  such 
consistency  implies  supernatural  guidance.     That  is, 
of  course,  Newman's  own  view.     But  what   he   has 
really  proved,  by  exhibiting  and  analysing  so  skilfully 
the  sense  in  which  such  consistency  can  be  predicated 
of  the  Church,  is  precisely  this :  that  it  is  the  work 
of  natural  laws.     The  consistency  is  the  result  of  the 
spontaneous  co-operation  of  many  minds,  guided  by 
that  implicit  and  unconscious  logic  which  results  from 
a  unity  of  fundamental  conceptions.     The  logic  has 
been  felt  before  it  has  been  proved.     This  comes  out 
curiously  in  various  passages.     Thus,  for  example,  he 
illustrates  the  development  of  Jewish  policy  by  asking, 
*  Can  any  history  wear  a  more  human  appearance  than 
that  of  the  rise  and  growth  of  the  Chosen  People  ?  '  ^ 
That  which  had  been  predetermined  in  the  Divine 
counsels  is  '  afterwards  represented  as  the  growth  of 
an  idea  under  successive  emergences.*     Unbelievers 
hold,  as  he  says,  that  the  Messianic  idea  was  gradu- 
ally developed  in  the  minds  of  the  Jews,^  and  gi-ew  to 
full  proportions  by  *  a  mere  human  process  ' ;  and  his 
theory  partly  confirms  this  doctrine.    It  is  significant, 
again,  that  he  fairly  admits  that  analogy  tells  '  in  one 
point  of  view'  against  all  revelation,   and  therefore 

»  Development,  p.  108.  2  75^   p  1Q3 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


201 


against    the    continued    existence    of    an    external 
authority.*     And   his   answer  appears   to  be  simply 
that,  if  we  admit  any  revelation,  we  may  admit  a  per- 
manent and  infallible  guide.     But  for  that  guidance 
we  should  fall  into  permanent  scepticism.    From  the 
infidel  point  of  view  it  is,  indeed,  clear  that  an  his- 
torical   argument    cannot   be  fairly  applied   to   the 
support  of    an  authority  which,  by  its  very  nature, 
contradicts  all  the    necessary  causes    of    historical 
inquiry.     The    existence   of    a   Church   such  as   he 
postulates   becomes  part  of  the  explanation  of  the 
phenomenon.     The  advantages  of  a  vast  and  highly- 
organised  religious  society  are  so  obvious  as  to  explain 
why  it  arose,  and  how  it  helped  to  give  consistency 
and  permanence  to  the  creed  which  it  embodied. 
Every  proof  of  its   utility  is   an  explanation  of  its 
origin ;  and  history,  fairly  treated,  would  prove  that 
the  Church,  like  its  creed,  owes  its  power  to  the  com- 
pleteness with  which  it  satisfied  the  needs  of  a  certain 
stage  of  social   development.     The  more  he  demon- 
strates its  utility,  the  greater  the  presumption  that  it 
was  strictly  a  natural  growth. 

And  here  comes  in  the  final  difficulty.  The  creed 
and  the  Church  are  to  be  tested  by  their  working 
power.  This  is  the  meaning  of  that  phrase  which  so 
profoundly  affected  him— securus  judicat  orhis  ter- 
rarum.^  The  ultimate  test  of  a  belief  is  its  vitality- 
it  proves  its  right  by  exercising  its  power.     That  is 

*  Developvient,  p.  122.  2  Apologia,  p.  211. 


V 


202 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


true  which  will  work.  By  all  means.  But  then, 
how  do  you  come  to  translate  nrhis  teirarum.  by  that 
small  part  of  the  world  which  has  for  a  certain  period 
accepted  the  Catholic  creed  ?  Why  exclude  the  count- 
less religions  which  have  dominated  different  ages  and 
races  ?  Newman  tells  us  elsewhere,^  briefly,  that  the 
superior  continuity  and  perfection  of  the  civilisation 
of  the  races  of  Western  Europe  entitle  them  to  be  called 
by  this  imposing  name,  orhis  terrarum.  Then  apply 
your  test  fairly.  The  Catholic  religion  is  the  true  one 
because  it  approved  itself  to  those  civilised  races.  If 
it  approved  itself  more  as  they  became  more  civilised 
the  argument  would  be  a  powerful  one.  But  the 
obvious  and,  indeed,  loudly-proclaimed  fact,  is  that  a 
large  part,  and  that  the  more  civilised  part  of  this 
very  orhis  tcrrarum,  has  rejected  Catholicism  avowedly 
or  virtually.  It  has  ceased  to  dominate  men  in  pro- 
portion as  they  had  become  more  civilised.  If,  then, 
their  acceptance  of  the  creed  is  the  proof  of  its  truth, 
their  rejection  must  surely  be  a  proof  of  its  error. 
Doubtless  it  contained  truth,  or  it  could  not  have 
flourished.  It  must  have  contained  error,  or  it  would 
not  have  pined. 

This  is,  indeed,  the  conclusive  and  culminating 
proof  with  many  and  most  serious  minds.  They 
have  judged  Catholicism  by  its  fruits,  and  reject  it, 
not  on  particular  arguments,  but  because  the  whole 
course  of  history  proves  it  to  be  incompatible  with  in- 

'  Idea  of  a  University ^  p.  250, 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


203 


tellectual  and  social  progress  beyond  a  certain  stage. 
It  no  longer  satisfies  Newman's  tests  ;  it  has  lost 
its  power  of  assimilation  and  of  growth,  and  is  fast 
becoming  a  dead  system  of  extinct  formula.  That  is 
the  contention.  How  does  Newman  meet  it?  By 
rejecting,  as  we  have  seen,  the  testimony  of  civili- 
sation ;  by  asserting  that  modern  philosophy  implies 
a  deadening  of  the  conscience  ;  by  declaring  that  even 
superstition  is  better  than  modern  illumination,  and 
setting  the  testimony  of  the  savage  against  the  testi- 
mony of  the  philosopher.  If  his  reasoning  be  sound, 
it  is  yet,  in  any  case,  an  abandonment  of  his  test.  In 
fact,  he  is  retreating  from  the  historical  method  pre- 
cisely because,  as  a  theologian,  he  can  only  half 
accept  a  doctrine  of  development  whilst  retaining  a 
belief  in  the  arbitrary  intervention  of  supernatural 
forces.  His  method  is  a  corollary  from  the  doctrine 
of  evolution  ;  but,  logically  followed  out,  that  method 
would  destroy  his  conclusions.  He  escapes,  therefore, 
by  denying  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  which  gives  to 
his  own  teaching  all  its  plausibility. 

Newman,  however,  is  too  good  a  logician  not 
to  feel  the  need  of  some  further  logical  bases.  To 
confront  the  world  and  modern  thought  he  must  have 
a  less  ambiguous  standing-ground.  He  must  show 
cause  for  rejecting  the  testimony  which  apparently 
makes  against  him.  And  we  shall  see  that  he  has  in 
fact  worked  out  an  elaborate  theory  calculated  to 
justify  his  method.    In  its  less  coherent  shape,  it 


t 


204 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


occurs  in  many  of  his  earlier  writings,  but  is  first  fully 
elaborated  in  the  *  Grammar  of  Assent,'  and  I  shall 
therefore  proceed  to  discuss  it  on  the  basis  of  that 
most  remarkable  book. 

The  historical   method,  as   understood   by  New- 
man, would  test  the  value  of  a  creed  by  its  fruitful - 
ness,  coherence,  persistence,  and  power  of    assimi- 
lating congenial  and  rejecting  alien  matter,  or,  in  a 
word,  by  its  vitality.     Such  a  method  has  two  re- 
markable consequences.    In  the  first  place,  it  tends 
to  set  aside  the  direct  and  obvious  tests  of  the  old- 
fashioned  apologists.     We  need  not  ask,  with   the 
philosophers,  whether  the   creed   gives  a  worthy  or 
intelligible    conception    of    the    miiverse;  for  such 
inquiries   only   lead   into   the   endless    labyrinth   of 
metaphysical  argumentations.     We  need  not  inquire, 
with  the  critics,  into  the  evidence  for  particular  his- 
torical statements  ;  for  the  facts  are  intelligible  only  as 
part  of  a  vast  and  complex  evolution,  which  must  be 
appreciated   as  a  whole  before  it  can  be  understood 
in  detail.     And,  in  the  second  place,  the  method  lays 
particular   stress    upon   the   process  by  which  ideas 
'percolate'  (as  Newman  somewhere  says)   by  other 
than   directly  logical    means.     The   dogmas   of   the 
creed  are  not   revealed   in   full   scholastic  precision 
and  nicety  of  definition.     They  are  not  reasoned  out, 
like  mathematical  propositions,  by  direct  demonstra- 
tion.    The   germs   are  planted   by   revelation;  they 
grow  spontaneously  in  the  minds  of  believers,  obeying 


i 


NEWMAN'S  THEOEY  OF  BELIEF 


205 


a  law  which  is  not  consciously  apprehended,  but 
which  may  be  afterwards  elicited,  and  which  becomes 
more  manifest  as  the  process  is  developed.  Once 
seized,  it  may  be  stated  as  a  logical  formula;  but 
during  the  earlier  period  it  is  in  the  state  of  implicit 
logic — an  informing  and  animating  principle,  not  a 
recognised  and  avowed  law  of  belief. 

Some  kind  of  logical  organon  is  required,  as  I 
have  already  tried  to  point  out,  in  order  to  extract 
from  this  theory  an  available  logical  test.  The 
truth  of  a  theory  must  be  the  ultimate  reason  for 
believing  it ;  and  the  question  is,  briefly.  How  from 
the  vitality  of  a  creed  are  we  to  infer  its  truth  ?  An 
answer  is  attempted  in  the  *  Grammar  of  Assent ' ; 
and  the  theory  expounded  in  that  book  harmonises 
throughout  with  that  which  is  implied  in  the  doctrine 
of  development.  The  method  of  classification  adopted 
is  the  same  in  both  cases.  Creeds,  according  to  the 
historical  theory,  are  measurable  according  to  their 
degrees  of  vitality ;  and  so  the  *  Grammar  of  Assent ' 
opens  with  an  elaborate  scale  of  assents  or  beliefs, 
varying  from  the  faintest  to  the  most  vivid,  and  from 
the  most  abstract  to  the  most  concrete.  Beliefs,  that 
is,  are  classified  by  their  fitness  to  form  part  of  a 
vigorous  creed.  The  faculty  whose  existence  is  pos- 
tulated in  the  doctrine  of  development,  that  by  which 
the  mind  draws  remote  inferences  without  a  conscious 
syllogistic  process,  is  now  carefully  analysed,  and  re- 
ceives the  name  of  the  Illative  Sense.    And,  finally. 


I 


206 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


we  are  again   struck   by  the   absence   of  the  direct 
logical   method.     A  Grammar  of  Assent,  one  would 
say,  ought  to  correspond  to  a  treatise  on  logic.     We 
ought  to  assent  to  true   propositions,  and  therefore 
should  begin  by  inquiring  what  is  the  test  of  truth. 
But  the  very  name  of  the  treatise  seems  designedly 
calculated  to  set  aside  such   inquiries,  and  contem- 
plates at  least  the  possibility  of  a  divorce  between  the 
faculty  of  believing  and  the  faculty  of  perceiving  the 
truth.     The  method,  as  we  shall    see,  is  calculated 
—whether   designedly  or  not— to  evade  the  purely 
logical  question.     Indeed,  Newman  lays  it  down  as 
a  principle  that   *in  no  class  of  concrete  reason- 
ings ....  is  there  any  ultimate  test  of  truth  and 
error  in  our  reasonings  besides  the  trustworthiness  of 
the  illative  sense  that  gives  them  its  sanction.'  ^    Our 
duty  is  to  cultivate  that  faculty,  and  then  trust  im- 
plicitly to  its  decisions. 

The  meaning  of  this  will  appear  as  we  proceed  ; 
but  it  is  important  to  notice  at  once  the  precise 
nature  of  Newman's  problem.  He  is  investigating,  one 
may  say,  the  physiology  of  belief  in  the  individual, 
as  he  before  considered  the  physiology  of  religious 
faith  in  a  society.  He  looks  upon  belief  from  outside 
as  a  phenomenon  which  is  to  be  examined,  and  whose 
laws  are  to  be  discovered  by  observation.  The 
problem  is,  in  truth,  this— What  are  the  general  condi- 
tions of  belief  ?    How  do  men,  as  a  fact,  reach  the 

'  Grammar  of  Assent,  p.  352. 


f  I 

I 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


207 


I 


state  of  mind  called  '  certitude  '  ?     If  an  exhaustive 
answer  could  be  given,  we  should  know  the  laws  of 
belief.     But  it  must  be  distinctly  observed  that  *  law  ' 
is  here  used  in  its  scientific,  not  in  its  narrower  and 
more  proper  sense.     The  code  investigated  is  not  that 
imposed  by  logic,  but  that  which  is  necessarily  and 
always  obeyed  by  the  working  of  the  human  mind.    We 
are  seeking  the  laws  of  all  belief,  not  the  laws  of  right 
belief ;  and  our  theory  would  explain  the  growth  of  error 
just  as  much  as  the  growth  of  sound  knowledge.  Every 
opinion,  true  or  false,  must  necessarily  obey  the  laws 
of  thought,  when  the  phrase  is  used  in  this  sense ; 
and  it  is  a  further   and  different  question  which  of 
the  opinions  generated  are  true,  or,  in  other  words, 
correspond  to  the  facts.     Logic  may  be  regarded  from 
this  point  of  view  as   a   particular   province   of  the 
wider  science   of   belief  in   general,  and   it   is  with 
that  wider   science  that   Newman  is  primarily  con- 
cerned.    It  will  i-equire  a  distinct  step  to  reach  the 
purely  logical  problem.     Before  that  step  is  made,  his 
conclusions  may  be  useful  in  discriminating  between 
real  and  sham  beliefs,  but  do  not  touch  the  distinc- 
tion between  true  and  false  beliefs.     He  may  help  us 
to  tell  in  what  cases  a  man  actually  does  believe,  or, 
in  his  language,  gives  a  full  assent  to  a  dogma  ;  but 
he  has,  so  far,  nothing  to  do  with  the  logical  value  of 
the  assent. 

The  two  questions,  it  is  true,  are  closely  connected, 
and  may  be  even  said  ultimately  to  coincide.    If,  in 


208 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


fact,  we  should  discover  that  certain  beliefs  are  neces- 
sary— that  is,  that  every  rational  being  is  forced  to 
accept  them  under  all  circumstances— the  theory  of 
belief  would  give  a  basis  for  the  narrower  theory  of 
logic.     A  strictly  necessary  belief  would,  indeed,  be 
implied  in  erroneous  as  well  as  in  sound  reasoning, 
and  could  not  supply  a  test  for  discriminating  truth 
from  error.     But  a  belief  may  be  of  such  a  character 
that  we  admit  it  when  once  presented  to  us,  though 
we  have  previously  not  thought  about  it ;  or,  whilst 
admitting  it,  we  may  not  have  evolved  its  remoter 
consequences.     The  general  theory  of  belief  may  be 
useful  as  revealing  and  defining  such  necessary  beHefs. 
Their  existence  would  be  proved  by  one  theory,  and 
taken  as  a  touchstone  of  all  reasoning  in  the  other. 
Such,  of  course,  whether  we  call  them  necessary  or 
not,  are  the  beliefs  expressed  in  EucHd's  axioms  or 
the  doctrine  of  the  uniformity  of  Nature.     The  logi- 
cian must  accept  the  belief  as  an  ultimate  fact,  whilst 
he  leaves  the  problem  of  its  origin  to  the  psychologist. 
For  the  present  it  is  enough  to  note  the  obvious 
difference  between  the  two  provinces  of  inquiry,  and 
the  danger  of  confounding  them.     If  every  condition 
which  in  fact  determines  belief  were  taken  to  be  there- 
fore a  condition  of  logical  belief,  we  should  sanction 
every  possible  error.     If,  on  the  other  hand,  logical 
conditions  were  regarded  as  the  sole  causes  which  in 
fact  determine  belief,   we  should  certainly  have,  as 
Newman  conclusively  shows,  a  most  inadequate  view 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


209 


of  the  way  in  which  belief,  and  even  sound  belief,  is 
in  fact  originated  and  propagated.  Meanwhile,  as 
Newman  is  primarily  concerned  with  the  wider 
theory  of  belief  in  general,  he  produces  a  Grammar 
of  Assent  instead  of  a  logic  ;  a  theory  of  the  methods 
by  which  men  are  convinced,  not  of  the  methods  by 
which  doctrines  are  proved  ;  and  an  account  of  the 
assumptions  upon  which  creeds  in  fact  rest,  rather 
than  an  account  of  the  marks  by  which  we  may 
recognise  the  verified  assumptions  entitled  to  be  re- 
garded as  established  truths. 

So  long  as  Newman  remains  within  the  limits 
thus  prescribed  his  theory  appears  to  be  as  unassail- 
able as  it  is  admirably  expounded.  The  propriety  of 
the  phraseology  may  be  disputed ;  but  the  name 
'illative  sense'  undoubtedly  corresponds  to  a  real 
faculty  or  combination  of  faculties,  and  his  use  of  it 
enables  him  to  give  an  accurate  analysis  of  a  most 
important  set  of  mental  phenomena.  It  is  true,  as  he 
says,  that  '  formal  logical  sequence  is  not,  in  fact,  the 
method  by  which  we  are  enabled  to  become  certain  of 
what  is  concrete.'  The  real  method  is  *  the  cumula- 
tion of  probabilities,  independent  of  each  other,  arising 
out  of  the  nature  and  circumstances  of  the  particular 
case  which  is  under  review ;  probabilities  too  fine  to 
avail  separately,  too  subtle  and  circuitous  to  be  con- 
vertible into  syllogisms,  too  numerous  and  various  for 
such  conversion,  even  were  they  convertible.  As  a 
man's  portrait  differs  from  a  sketch  of  him  in  having 


H»-  ""^ 


. 


210 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


not  merely  a  continuous  outline,  but  all  its  details 
filled  in,  and  shades  and  colours  laid  on  and  har- 
monised together;  such  is  the  multiform  and  intri- 
cate process  of  ratiocination  necessary  for  our  reach- 
ing him  as  a  concrete  fact,  compared  with  the  rude 
operation  of  syllogistic  treatment.'^  Nothing  could 
be  better  said,  or  more  substantially  true.  Formal 
logic  is  rather  a  negative  and  a  verifying  than  a  positive 
and  discovering  process,  and  represents  only  a  very 
small  part  of  the  actual  operation  by  which  we  are 
guided,  and  necessarily  guided,  in  all  practical  judg- 
ments. When  I  form  an  estimate  of  a  man's 
character,  of  the  wisdom  of  a  policy,  of  the  truth  of  a 
creed,  my  mind  is,  in  fact,  determined  by  countless 
considerations,  of  which  only  a  small  part  can  be  dis- 
tinctly tabulated  and  drawn  out  into  articulate  logical 
order.  But,  undeniable  as  this  may  be,  the  logical 
formulae  may  yet  have  a  paramount  importance. 
They  do  not  constitute  the  whole  line  of  defence,  but 
they  may  give  the  key  of  the  position. 

The  point  may  require  elucidation.  Newman 
illustrates  his  position  by  a  criticism  of  the  authen- 
ticity of  a  passage  in  Shakespeare,-  and  shows  with 
great  felicity  how  short  a  cut  we  make  to  the  decision 
of  a  question  which  involves  almost  countless  con- 
siderations, when  drawn  out  into  full  logical  shape. 
I  will  venture  to  extend  the   illustration    a    little 


»  Grammar  0/  Assent,  p.  281. 


»  Ibid.  p.  2G4. 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


211 


further.  One  of  the  relevant  arguments  in  discussing 
the  authenticity  of  a  Shakespearian  passage  is  the 
character  of  the  versification.  A  critic  with  a  fine 
ear  pronounces  unhesitatingly  that  Wolsey's  speech 
in  'Henry  VIII.'  resembles  Fletcher  more  than  Shake- 
speare. A  member  of  the  New  Shakespeare  Society 
confirms  this  judgment  by  the  application  of  a 
metrical  test.  He  counts,  for  example,  the  propor- 
tion of  stopped  and  unstopped  lines,  and  decides  that 
it  corresponds  to  the  proportion  always  found  in 
Fletcher's  known  writings,  and  never  in  Shake- 
speare's. The  counter  of  stops  and  syllables  is  able 
to  put  his  argument  into  syllogistic  shape ;  the  critic 
can  only  say  that  he  has  judged  by  his  ear. 

Now,  it  is  plain  that  both  observers  have  been 
determined  in  part  by  the  same  consideration.  The 
critic  may  have  been  guided  by  innumerable  Hke- 
nesses,  which  are  too  delicate  to  be  put  into  words, 
and  of  which  he  is  not  even  distinctly  conscious. 
But  he  has  also  been  guided,  though  unconsciously, 
by  the  characteristic  which  his  humble  colleague  has 
measured.  He  has  felt  the  peculiarity,  though  he 
has  not  discovered  its  cause.  A  critic  is  a  good  one 
in  proportion  as  he  is  sensitive  to  the  most  refined 
and  delicate  differences  ;  he  is  scientific  in  proportion 
as  he  can  give  an  accurate  and  verifiable  analysis  of 
the  nature  of  those  differences;  and,  of  course,  the 
two  powers  are  distinct,  and  differently  developed. 
One  man  may  be  quickest  at  recognising  the  fact  of 

p  2 


212 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


a  likeness,  and  another  ablest  to  assign  the  causes 
of  such  likeness  as  he  recognises. 

When  we  compare  the  higher  critic  and  his 
humble  rival,  it  is  clear  that  the  intensity  of  con- 
viction may  be  the  same  to  the  observer  himself.  A 
man  with  an  exquisite  intellectual  taste  can  recognise 
the  flavour  of  Shakespeare  as  distinctly  as  the  epicure 
recognises  a  special  vintage,  and  may  be  as  absolutely 
peremptory  in  his  conclusions.  Moreover,  he  can 
form  a  judgment  upon  matters  where  the  humbler 
word-counter  is  hopelessly  at  a  loss.  His  sphere  of 
reasoning  envelops  and  transcends  that  of  his  rival. 
But  his  inference  cannot  be  regarded  as  conclusively 
proved  for  anyone  else.  We  all  know  that  critics  are 
often  peremptory  in  proportion  to  their  ignorance. 
The  counter  of  syllables,  on  the  other  hand,  has 
proved  beyond  all  doubt  the  fact  which  he  asserts. 
There  is  undeniably  such  a  likeness  as  he  maintains, 
and  in  such  a  definite  degree.  The  statement  can 
be  tested  by  every  human  being  who  possesses  the 
faculty  of  counting,  and  there  is,  therefore,  no  risk 
of  a  *  personal  error.'  It  is  convincing,  as  far  as  it 
goes,  not  only  to  himself,  but  to  the  whole  world  of 
rational  beings,  and  may  take  its  place  as  a  definite 
objective  truth. 

The  relation  of  the  two  is  admirably  illustrated 
by  Sancho  Panza.  Two  of  his  uncles  sat  in  judgment 
on  a  cask  of  wine.  One  said  that  it  had  a  smack  of 
leather,  and  the  other  that  it  smacked  of  iron.     The 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


213 


bystanders  laughed;  but  the  uncles  had  the  laugh 
on  their  side  when  the  cask  was  drunk  out,  and  an 
old  key  with  a  leather  thong  revealed  at  the  bottom. 
The  uncles  were  the  fine  critics  who  could  recognise 
a  truth  as  proved  for  them.  It  was  not  proved  for 
the  world  till  the  unmistakable  test  came  to  light. 
They  might,  in  fact,  have  been  deceived  by  some 
personal  error.  But,  as  all  men  can  judge  of  iron 
and  leather  when  they  see  and  touch  it,  error  became 
impossible.  Then  the  private  conviction  passed  into 
a  universal  objective  truth.  But  unhesitating  con- 
viction previously  would  have  been  unreasonable, 
except  so  far  as  there  were  independent  reasons  for 
admitting  the  infallibility  of  Sancho's  uncles. 

In  all  cases,  from  the  simplest  and  most  definite 
to  the  most  complex  and  vague  inferences,  the  ultimate 
ground  of  all  inductive  argument  is  the  same,  namely, 
the  perception  of  likeness  or  unlikeness.  The  dif- 
ference is,  that  in  some  cases  the  characteristic  is 
capable  of  strict  measurement,  in  which  all  minds 
agree,  whilst  in  others  it  is  recognisable  only  by  the 
acuter  observers,  and  therefore  with  varying  distinct- 
ness. In  some  cases  we  can  only  reach  qualitative, 
whilst  in  others  we  can  attain  to  quantitative  analysis. 
Accordingly,  the  whole  mass  of  human  belief  may  be 
regarded  as  a  chaotic  nebula  surrounding  a  solid 
nucleus  of  definitively-established  truth.  The  core 
of  permanent  knowledge  consists  partly  in  those 
beliefs  which   can  be  expressed  with  mathematical 


214 


NEW3IAN'S  THEOKY   OF  BELIEF 


precisioa  and  exposed  to  definite  tests,  and  partly  in 
those  vaguer  and  less  tangible  beliefs  which  may, 
nevertheless,  be  confirmed  by  such  an  overwhelming 
body  of  evidence  from  the  concurrent  testimony  of 
innumerable  observers  that  doubt  is  practically  im- 
possible. Outside  this  core  we  have  multitudinous 
beliefs  of  all  degrees  of  authority,  down  to  the  vaguest 
conjecture.  But  there  is  no  definite  separation 
between  the  inner  and  the  outer  sphere.  A  process 
of  integration  is  continually  taking  place.  New 
beliefs  are  constantly  crystallising  round  the  solid 
core  and  becoming  definitely  established,  whilst 
others  are  dissipated  or  transformed  by  the  progress 
of  inquiry. 

Meanwhile  it  is  an  obvious  fact  that  conviction 
follows  a  different  law  from  proof.  In  many  cases  it 
outruns  proof.  A  man  may  be  as  firmly  convinced 
of  the  truth  of  an  uncertain  or  a  false  proposition  as 
of  a  demonstrable  mathematical  formula.  He  may 
be  right,  if  he  has  evidence  open  to  no  one  else, 
whether  by  virtue  of  finer  perceptions  or  of  fuller 
knowledge.  Or,  on  the  other  hand,  conviction  may 
fall  short  of  proof.  A  man  may  disbelieve  an  esta- 
blished proposition,  either  because  he  is  ignorant  of 
its  evidence,  or  incapable  of  estimating  the  evidence, 
or  too  indolent  or  prejudiced  to  estimate  it  fairly. 
The  question,  therefore,  as  to  whether  a  doctrine  is 
proved  is  distinct  from  the  question  as  to  whether 
it    produces    conviction    on  a    given  mind.      One 


NEWMAN'S  THEOKY  OF  BELIEF 


215 


problem  is  a  logical  one,  and  the  other  belongs  to  the 
theory  of  belief  in  general. 

If,  indeed,  we  apply   with   Newman   the   purely 
empirical  test,  we  may  say  that  the  ultimate  criterion 
is  the  same.     That  is  a  true  proposition  in  matters 
of   fact    (for  we  are  not  speaking  of  the   so-called 
necessary,  or  d  priori  truths)  which   men   actually 
believe  when  it  is  presented  to  their  minds.      We 
cannot  get  beyond  the  test  of  experience.     Our  beliefs 
in  the  general  doctrine  of  the  uniformity  of  Nature, 
which  underlies  all  empirical  reasoning,  still  more  in 
all  specific  truths  as  to  the  world   of  realities,  are 
ultimately  based  upon  or  express  the  fact  that  all 
men  do  in  fact  accept  them  when  distinctly  set  before 
them.     Therefore,  it  may  be  urged,  whenever  men 
differ  as  to  such  truths,  we  must  either  hold  ourselves 
in  suspense  or  be  convinced  without  sufiicient  evidence. 
This,  it  may  be  further  argued,  is  the  case  in  regard 
to  all  religious  opinions  ;  and  therefore  we  must  choose 
between  permanent  scepticism  and  a  dogmatic  belief 
which  dispenses  with  tangible  proof  by  the  help  of 
the  *  illative  sense.'    Scepticism — an  absolute  suspense 
of  judgment — is  in  such  matters  impossible,  and  we 
must  therefore  allow  our  beliefs  to  outrun  our  logic. 
This  is  specially  true  in  such  cases  as  are  illustrated 
by  the  Shakespearian  criticism,  where   the  grounds 
of  conviction   are   too   complex   and   delicate   to   be 
expressible  in  syllogistic  form.     In  this  whole  sphere 
of  opinion,  including  as  one  class  all  our  religious 


216 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


beliefs,  we  can  only  judge  by  the  testimony  of  the 
illative  sense.  I  perceive,  by  a  process  analogous  to 
the  use  of  the  external  senses,  that  this  or  that  belief 
is  on  the  whole  congi'uous  to  my  other  established 
beliefs.  Therefore  it  is  true.  I  can  go  no  further ; 
for  all  inference  really  comes  to  this  in  the  last  resort ; 
and  the  perception  summed  up  in  these  words  is  too 
complex  for  analysis  or  verification.  It  may  happen 
that  whilst  you  perceive  the  belief  to  be  congruous, 
I  perceive  it  to  be  incongruous.  Therefore,  it  seems, 
what  is  true  for  you  is  false  for  me ;  or  there  is  no 
objective  certainty,  though  there  is  subjective  con- 
viction. Newman  partly  accepts  this  conclusion.  *  A 
proof,'  he  says,  *  except  in  abstract  demonstration, 
has  always  in  it,  more  or  less,  an  element  of  the 
personal,'  ^  because  the  degree  of  conviction  depends 
to  some  degree  upon  that  kind  of  knowledge  which 
entitles  a  man  to  be  called  an  expert,  and  which  varies 
from  one  man  to  another. 

Once  more,  if  this  be  understood  as  part  of  the 
theory  of  belief,  it  is,  I  think,  undoubtedly  true. 
Conviction  as  to  all  matters  of  fact,  nay,  even  as  to 
mathematical  propositions,  does,  I  doubt  not,  vary 
most  materially  from  man  to  man.  Evidence  of  all 
kinds  strikes  people  with  very  different  force,  accord- 
ing to  their  prepossessions,  their  power  of  reasoning, 
and  so  on  ;  and  the  evidence  accessible  to  different 
people,  even  in  support  of  the  commonest  facts,  may 

*  Grammar  of  Assent,  p.  310. 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


217 


vary  almost  indefinitely.  It  is  a  truism,  indeed,  to 
say  that,  as  things  are,  divergence  of  belief  is 
inevitable ;  that  an  ordinary  man  cannot  help  being 
a  Catholic  at  Kome  and  a  Mussulman  at  Mecca  ; 
or  that  Newman  became  a  Eoman  Catholic  as  natur- 
ally as  Comte  became  a  Positivist.  And  from 
this  fact  it  is  usual  and  proper  to  infer  the  duty  of 
toleration  and  the  absurdity,  not  of  conviction,  but 
of  dogmatism.  I  cannot  help  believing,  but  I  have 
no  right  to  make  my  belief,  simply  as  my  belief,  a 
ground  for  demanding  your  belief.  But,  asserting 
all  this  as  emphatically  as  possible,  it  is  entirely 
irrelevant  to  the  logical  problem.  Error  is  inevitable, 
but  it  is  not  therefore  truth.  When  a  man's  mind 
is  constituted  in  a  certain  way,  and  certain  evidence 
is  brought  before  him,  it  will  inevitably  produce  a 
certain  opinion.  That  is  as  true  as  that  any  action 
whatever  is  a  function  of  the  organism  and  the 
medium.  But  it  has  no  bearing  upon  the 
other  question,  whether  the  man's  mind  is  rational, 
or  whether  he  deals  with  the  evidence  in  accordance 
with  logical  rules.  Those  rules  simply  express  the 
conditions  which  secure  a  conformity  between  opinion 
and  fact.  They  are  not,  as  I  have  said,  *  laws  of 
thought '  in  the  scientific  sense  of  law,  for  they  are 
constantly  broken.  They  simply  state  the  conditions, 
a  neglect  of  which  leads  a  man  into  error.  And  the 
fullest  agreement  that,  as  men  are  constituted,  error 
is  unavoidable  does  not  prevent   us    from    inquiring 


218 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


which  opinions  have  been  reached  by  a  logical  and 
which    by    an    illogical    process.      If,    indeed,    the 
difference  between  men's  minds  were  such  that  no 
two  people  could  hold  the  same  opinion,  the  pursuit 
of  a  truth  independent  of  personal   variation   would 
be  chimerical.     But  as  the  same  conclusion  may  be 
reached  by  many  different  processes,  we  may  hope  to 
approximate  by  degrees  to  a  general  agreement,  or,  in 
other  words,  to  a  coincidence  between  proof  and  con- 
viction.    Nor,  again,  does  the  difficulty  of  summing 
up  and  (so  to  speak)  packing  into  a  single  formula  the 
whole  pith  and  essence  of  so  complex  an  assent  as 
that  to  the  truth  of  a  religion  diminish  in  the  slightest 
degree  the  imix)rtance  of  applying  logical  tests  other 
than  that  of  the    direct   testimony  of  the   *  illative 
sense.'     That  difficulty  undoubtedly  makes  the  pur- 
suit of  truth  a  slow  and  complex  operation.     It  proves 
that  the  co-operation  of  many  minds  and   of  many 
generations  must  be  necessary  for  the  elimination  of 
personal   error — indeed,   of    more   minds   and   more 
generations  than  have  existed  or  perhaps   ever   will 
exist  in  the  world.     But  though  we  cannot  devise  any 
direct   crucial   experiment   upon  which  to  stake  our 
conclusions,  we  can  lay  down  rules,  the  observance  of 
which   will   secure  an   approximation   to  truth.      A 
religious  system,  for  example,  may  involve  historical 
statements  which  can  be  compared  with  established 
facts  ;  unless  we  are  prepared  to  deny  that  there  are 
any  established  facts  in  history.     It  contains,  again, 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


219 


innumerable  philosophic  or  scientific  statements  and 
implications  capable  of  being  tested  by  the  ordinary 
methods  which  obtain  certainty  elsewhere.  As  the 
core  of  fixed  knowledge  grows  by  slow  accretion,  we 
obtain  a  larger  basis  for  our  inquiries  and  a  more  dis- 
tinct perception  of  its  tendency  to  combine  with  or 
destroy  the  religious  dogmas. 

Such  tests  are,  necessarily,  of  gradual  application. 
The  individual  can  only  endeavour  to  conform  his 
own  reasoning  methods  to  the  general  rules  of  sound 
inquiry.  Though  he  cannot  bring  all  the  various 
threads  of  his  explicit  and  implicit  reasoning  to  a 
single  point,  he  can  do  something  to  detect  the 
presence  of  inconsistent  elements,  of  unfounded 
assumptions,  or  of  extra-logical  arguments.  He  can, 
in  particular,  form  some  opinion  as  to  his  own  im- 
partiality. If  he  is  impressed  by  some  special 
characteristic,  he  can  say  whether  this  impression  is 
due  to  some  accidental  bias  ;  and  if  he  is  a  lover  of 
truth,  he  can  in  that  case  resist  it.  In  other  words, 
he  can  endeavour  to  base  his  conclusions  upon  reason 
instead  of  arbitrary  prejudice. 

This  seems  to  be  the  plain  meaning  of  a  canon 
laid  down  by  Locke.  *  There  is  one  unerring  mark,' 
says  that  most  candid  of  thinkers,  *  by  which  a  man 
may  know  whether  he  is  a  lover  of  truth  in  earnest ' ; 
viz/ the  not  eiitertainingaiiy proposition  with  greater 
assurance  than  the  proofs  it  is  built  on  will  warrant.'  ^ 

'  Quoted  in  Gravwiar  of  Assent^  p.  155. 


220 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


Newman  attacks  this  canon  at  considerable  length  ; 
and  I  therefore  presume  that  he  regards  it  as  in 
some  way  incompatible  with  his  own  doctrine.  To 
me  I  confess  that  it  somids  almost  like  a  truism- 
only  necessary  to  be  asserted  because  so  scandalously 
neglected.  It  amounts  simply  to  saying  that  we 
should  form  our  opinions  in  accordance  with  logic; 
that  is,  in  accordance  with  the  rules  which  secure 
truth.  It  is  not  easy  to  see  how  this  can  be  denied 
by  anyone  who  admits  (as,  of  course,  Newman 
most  fully  admits)  that  the  sole  end  of  reasoning  is 
the  attainm.ent  of  truth. 

The  main  argument  which  Newman  opposes 
to  Locke  is  the  simple  statement  of  fact.  *  We  do,' 
he  says,  '-  believe  certain  propositions  which  rest  upon 
probability  alone  as  peremptorily  as  if  they  rested 
upon  demonstrative  evidence.'  Such,  for  example,  are 
the  beliefs  of  the  mortality  of  man  and  the  insularity 
of  Great  Britain.  In  such  cases  Newman  holds 
that  there  exists  what  Locke  calls  a  *  surplusage '  of 
belief  over  proof.  ^  Various  answers  might  be  made. 
If  it  were  in  truth  not  proved  or  provable  that  men 
would  die,  or  that  Great  Britain  was  an  island,  I,  for 
one,  would  decline  to  believe  it.  If  whilst  denying 
the  proof,  I  were  yet  forced  to  retain  the  belief,  I 
should  have  to  believe  in  intuitions  of  a  character 
never  yet  admitted  by  philosophers,  namely,  intuitions 
as  to  particular  matters  of  fact.     But  I  should  prefer 

*  Gramjnar  of  Assent,  p.  293. 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY   OF  BELIEF 


221 


to  reply  that  the  propositions  in  question  are  in  fact 
proved.  And  I  am  not  sure  that  Newman  would 
differ  from  me  in  substance.  He  would  only  say  that 
they  are  proved  by  the  '  illative  sense '  instead  of  the 
syllogistic  process.  The  truth  is  that  all  such  pro- 
positions imply  a  belief  in  the  validity  of  inductive 
methods,  and,  therefore,  in  the  invariable,  and  at  least 
general,  uniformity  of  Nature.  Without  such  an 
assumption,  however  founded,  we  could  simply  not 
reason  at  all.  With  it,  the  proof  of  a  matter  of  fact 
may  approximate  indefinitely  to  demonstration.  It 
never  actually  reaches  it,  as  the  asymptote  never 
actually  reaches  the  curve.  But  the  approximation 
is  so  close  that  human  faculties  will  not  enable  us  to 
distinguish  the  difference.  The  proof,  that  is,  that 
two  and  two  make  four  differs  from  the  proof  that 
men  are  mortal  by  so  infinitesimal  an  amount  as  to 
be  indistinguishable  to  the  most  sensitive  mental 
vision.  A  slight  correction  may  be  necessary  to 
Locke's  statement  to  justify  our  neglect  of  these 
infinitesimal  quantities  ;  but  its  validity  is  not  sensibly 
affected.  The  proof  of  human  mortality  rests  on  the 
immense  variety  of  conditions  under  which  the  experi- 
ment of  living  has  been  tried,  none  of  which  sensibly 
affect  the  result.  We  are  justified  in  the  inference 
that  no  conditions,  the  occurrence  of  which  can  be 
anticipated,  will  affect  any  particular  life.  And,  as 
we  understand  more  clearly  the  nature  of  the  process 
called  life,  we  are  able  to  affiliate  this  truth  to  other 


U^' 


•V'  lumi  ,  m 


222 


NEWMAN'S  THEOBY  OF  BELIEF 


still  more  general  laws  of  Nature.      So,  again,  the 
proof  that  Great  Britain  is  an  island  rests,  for  most  of 
us,  upon  the  impossibility  of  the  belief  of  its  insularity 
being  so  widely  spread,  and  assumed  at  every  step  by 
so  many  people  in  a  position  to  verify  the  statement, 
if  it   be,    in    fact,    erroneous.      So    far    Newman's 
difference  from   Locke   seems   to   be   almost  verbal. 
Newman  fully  admits  and  admirably  illustrates   the 
force   of    an    argument   existing    upon   innumerable 
converging  probabilities  ;    but   he   does   not   call   it 
'proof,'  because  it  is  not  expressible  in  syllogisms,  nor 
is  a  denial  of  its  force  reducible  to  a  contradiction  in 
terms.     Locke,  on  the  other  hand,  equally  admits  the 
force  of  the  argument,  but  regards  it  as  strictly  logical. 
Mill  and  the  purely  empirical  school  would  have  called 
it  the  only  logical  method.     In  any  case,  the  man  who 
admits  its  force  cannot  allow  that  in  accepting  such 
arguments  he  is  allowing  belief  to  be  *  more  than  the 
proofs  will  warrant.' 

The  tendency,  however,  of  Newman's  argument 
comes  out  in  another  direction.  Undoubtedly  many 
people  believe  the  truths  in  question  upon  in- 
sufficient evidence.  Children  believe  in  mortality 
because  they  have  been  told  that  they  are  mortal, 
and,  on  precisely  the  same  grounds,  they  may  believe 
in  witches  or  in  the  flatness  of  the  world.  A  foreigner 
may  believe  that  Great  Britain  is  an  island  because  a 
notorious  liar,  who  had  a  strong  interest  in  the  state- 
ment, has  told  him  that  it  is  an  island.     The  pro- 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


223 


verbial  old  woman  refused  to  believe  in  flying-fish,  and 
did  believe  in  mountains  of  sugar  and  lakes  of  rum. 
If  she  had  been  more  credulous,  she  would  have 
accepted  the  truth  and  the  error  with  equal  confidence. 
The  fact  that  a  man  may  hold  a  true  opinion  on  in- 
sufficient evidence  is  no  proof,  though  it  is,  strangely, 
urged  as  a  proof,  that  he  is  right  in  receiving  insuffi- 
cient evidence.  The  often-quoted  Eastern  prince  who 
believed  in  ice  on  authority  was  accidentally  right: 
but,  if  he  had  accepted  all  that  was  told  him  on  the 
same  authority,  he  would  have  fallen  into  errors  as 
great  as  that  of  the  old  lady  of  the  flying-fish. 

Yet  facts  of  this  kind  are  often  alleged  as  if  they 
proved  that  we  ought  to  believe — as  they  certainly 
prove  that  we  do  believe — upon  insufficient  proof. 
The  point  is  put  in  a  nutshell  by  Newman  himself. 
He  says,  most  truly,  that  *  life  is  not  long  enough  for 
a  religion  of  inferences  ;  we  shall  never  have  done 
beginning  if  we  determine  to  begin  with  proof.  Life 
is  for  action.  If  we  insist  on  proof  for  everything,  we 
shall  never  come  to  action ;  to  act  you  must  assume, 
and  that  assumption  is  faith.'  ^  That  sums  up  his 
theory.  Assumption  is  faith.  Now,  undoubtedly,  the 
proposition  states  a  truth,  and  a  most  important  truth, 
in  the  theory  of  belief.  Assumptions  are  necessary, 
and   for  the  reason  given  by  Newman.      The  whole 

'  Grammar  of  Assent,  p.  92.  The  passage  is  (juoted  by  Newman 
from  an  earlier  letter  of  his  own.  He  apparently  endorses  the  asser- 
tion ;  but  in  any  case  the  illustration  is  equally  good. 


tt  -''I     T^    p/  '^    ^5  iS/hy'-^Kjji  Jn^Kii^Li^L  Uhf*eU),fk  So/iv/a'  e<.>-av.  .  A^.^  7<Vi-<v   tvv 


1.V   Of  -« 


ftf^ML/-  /$  -^*^^>  T?  ^''-JT^    /V^•''>'   i"^  ^  -^^^  ^'>  '^  ^^H 


\ 


224 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


history  of  human  belief  is  a  history  of  the  growth  and 
decay  of  such  assumptions.  The  creed  of  the  savage 
is  of  necessity  a  series  of  postulates,  some  of  which 
are  verified,  whilst  others  disappear.  Not  only  so,  but 
we  are  all  forced  at  every  moment  to  make  innumerable 
assumptions.  We  could  not  live  or  act  without  them. 
And,  further,  such  assumptions  tend  to  become  beliefs. 
We  act  on  the  hypothesis  that  a  creed  is  true.  We 
come  to  believe  that  it  is  certainly  true.  And,  further, 
the  process  may  be  perfectly  legitimate.  To  assume 
the  doctrine  may  be  the  best  or  only  way  of  testing  its 
truth.  And,  in  fact,  that  is  the  way  in  which  doctrines 
have  been  established  or  destroyed. 

But  whilst  this  is  perfectly  true  of  belief,  it  is  not 
true  of  right  belief.  On  the  contrary,  the  need  of 
making  unverified  assumptions,  and  the  tendency  to 
cling  to  them  after  their  falsity  has  been  exposed,  is 
precisely  the  reason  why  error  is  so  common  and  so 
persistent.  The  logician  is  a  man,  and  must  therefore 
act,  and  act  upon  countless  unverified  assumptions. 
But  he  ought  to  be  a  lover  of  truth,  and  must  there- 
fore carefully  guard  his  mind  against  a  process  which 
is,  as  Newman  says,  perfectly  natural,  but  most  un- 
doubtedly illogical.  The  first  lesson  he  has  to  learn 
is  just  this — that  assumption,  though  not  proof,  has 
a  pernicious  tendency  to  pass  for  proof.  In  insist- 
ing upon  this  process,  Newman  fully  explains  the 
genealogy  of  faith,  but  the  explanation  is  often  the 
very  contrary  of  a  justification.    It  states  the  cause 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


225 


but  not  the  reason  of  faith,  and,  unluckily,  the  cause  is 
often  most  unreasonable.  To  assign  the  conditions 
of  a  belief  is  often  to  prove  its  error.  If  we  show  that 
belief  in  a  criminal's  fault  is  associated  with  dislike 
of  his  person,  the  verdict  of  a  jury  loses  its  force.  If 
we  find  that  a  superstition  exists,  not  only  where  it 
might  be,  but  also  where  it  could  not  possibly  be,  veri- 
fied, we  show  that  it  must  be  founded,  not  on  obser- 
vation, but  on  fancy.  And  thus  an  examination  of 
the  laws  of  belief  will  show  us  that  many  most  real 
beliefs  are  entirely  illogical,  and  consequently  that  it 
is  a  grievous  error  to  take  a  test  of  the  reality  of  a 
belief  as  a  test  of  its  truth. 

The  application  of  this  to  religious  beliefs  is 
obvious.  Newman  gives  a  pathetic  passage  from 
*  North  and  South,'  in  which  the  poor  factory-girl  ends 
by  saying,  *  If  this  life  is  the  end,  and  there  is  no  God 
to  wipe  away  all  tears  from  all  eyes,  I  could  go  mad.' 
'Here,'  says  Newman,  *is  an  argument  for  the 
immortality  of  the  soul.  As  to  its  force,  be  it  great 
or  small,  will  it  make  a  figure  in  a  logical  discussion 
carried  on  secwndarn  artem  /  Can  any  scientific 
common  measure  compel  the  intellects  of  a  Dives  and 
Lazarus  to  take  the  same  measure  of  it  ?  Is  there 
any  test  of  its  validity  better  than  the  ipse  dixit  of 
private  judgment — that  is,  the  judgment  of  those  who 
have  a  right  to  judge,  and  next,  agreement  of 
many  private  judgments  in  one  and  the  same  view  of 

Q 


226 


NEWMAN'S  THEOKY  OF  BELIEF 


it  ?  '  ^  If  we  are  asking  what  will  be  the  actual  effect 
of  the  argument  upon  people's  minds,  Newman's 
implied  statements  are  undeniable.  Dives  and 
Lazarus,  the  wise  and  the  simple,  the  cynic  and  the 
sentimentalist,  will  each  be  affected  after  his  kind. 
And  if  there  were  no  difference  between  rhetoric  and 
logic,  between  the  actual  persuasive  force  and  the 
true  logical  force  of  an  argument,  we  should  have  to 
admit  that  we  could  get  no  further  than  a  purely 
sceptical  result.  One  man  will  think  one  thing, 
another  will  think  another,  and  if  a  good  many  think 
the  same,  so  much  the  better. 

But  all  this  is  purely  irrelevant  in  logic.     It  still 
remains  undeniably  clear  that  there  is   a  difference 
between   the   weight   which   the    argument   actually 
bears,  and  that  which  it  ought  to  bear.     The  logical 
and  the  rhetorical  influence  are  separable,  at  any  rate 
in  theory.     The  divergence  between  people's  opinions 
is  due  in  part  to  the  fact  that   the  argument   may 
strike   their  *  illative  sense  '  differently  ;   and  partly 
also  to  the  fact  that  argument  fails  to  strike  some 
people  in  any  way.     Few  men  think,  yet  all  will  have 
opinions,   as  Berkeley    says;    and    therefore    some 
opinions   have    no    authority.      The    agreement    of 
private  judgments  is  valuable  only  so   far  as  those 
judgments  are  in  some  sense  the  product  of  reasoning. 
If  any  man's  belief  is  caused  by  blind  contagion,  by 
submission   to   arbitrary  authority,  or    by  the  mere 

'  Grafiimar  of  Assent,  p.  305. 


NEWMAN'S  THEOKY  OF  BELIEF 


227 


[ 


pleasantness  of  the  belief,  his  judgment  is  logically 
worthless. 

« 

Newman  would,  of  course,  agree  to  a  statement 
which  in  fact  merely  comes  to  saying  that  logic  re- 
presents a  real   science.     There  is   some  inference 
which  ought  to  be  drawn  from  any  given  statement, 
if  only  we  could  discover  it.     Newman,  indeed,  shows 
admirably    why    it    is     that    obedience    to    logical 
rules  cannot  secure  right  conclusions.    Logic  may 
make  our  reason  correct  in  form,  but  it  cannot  supply 
the  matter.     No  art  of  syllogising  will  adequately 
represent  the  whole  reasoning  process.     Logic,  there- 
fore, can  in  such  matters  be  no  self-acting  machine, 
like  Professor  Jevons's,  into  which  we  can  insert  our 
premisses  and   grind  out  correct   conclusions.     But 
it  may  still  be  an  organising  principle ;  a  practical 
rule  which  helps  us  to  unravel  confusion  and  repel 
inconsistent  elements  in  our  mental   operations,  to 
exhibit   their   nature,   and   perceive  their   tendency. 
Even  in  the  most  complex  cases,  where  the  *  illative 
sense  '  is  hopelessly  unable  to  give  a  distinct  analysis 
of  its  operation,   the  attempt   to   be  logical   gives  a 
value  to  the  conclusions  of  the  reasoner.     Dives  and 
Lazarus  cannot  find  a  measure  which  will  of  itself 
gauge   the  worth   of  their  inferences,    but  if  Dives 
attends  to  logical  rules,  and  Lazarus  neglects  them, 
the  opinion  of  Dives  will  be  so  far  the  more  valuable! 
And  though  in  such  cases  superior  logic  may  give  a 
very  trifling  advantage,  yet  the  converging  opinion  of 

Q  2 


228 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


229 


a  number  of  logicians  may  have  an  enormous  advan- 
tage. Lazarus  is  as  likely  to  be  wrong  as  to  be  right ; 
Dives  has  one  more  chance  out  of  a  hundred  in  his 
favour.  The  difference,  according  to  a  familiar  prin- 
ciple, may  be  decisive  in  the  long  run ;  and,  there- 
fore, little  as  logic  can  do,  it  is  our  duty  to  be  as 
logical  as  we  can. 

The  argument  in  question  supplies  an  excellent 
illustration  of  the  truth.  An  opponent  would  ask 
Newman,  What  is  the  major  of  your  factory-girl's 
enthymeme?  She  asserts  that  a  belief  is  in- 
tensely painful.  She  infers  that  it  is  false.  Does 
she,  then,  hold  implicitly  that  all  intensely  painful 
beliefs  are  false?  If  so,  why?  If  not,  is  she 
reasoning  at  all,  or  only  refusing  to  reason  ?  To  be 
logical  is  to  ask  such  questions,  and  thereby  to  clear 
the  issues,  though  not  to  produce  instantaneous  agree- 
ment. It  is  only  to  introduce  a  principle  which  will 
secure  a  slow  gravitation  towards  agreement ;  and 
the  advantage  is  clear.  Though  Dives  cannot  see 
things  just  as  Lazarus  sees  them,  and  therefore 
cannot  appreciate  his  inducement  to  believe,  he  can 
judge  as  well,  or,  if  an  abler  logician,  he  can  judge 
better,  of  the  truth  of  the  general  proposition,  *  Pain- 
ful beliefs  are  false.'  Logic  does  not  give  the  answer 
ready-made,  but  it  reveals  the  true  nature  of  the 
process.  To  reject  it  because  inadequate  to  produce 
instant  agi'eement,  is  to  throw  away  a  compass 
because  it  is  not  a  divining-rod. 


I 


In  this  case  I  venture  to  think  that  it  would  prove 
the  so-called  argument  to  be  no  argument  at  all.  It 
is  simply  a  forcible  illustration  of  the  importance  of 
Locke's  canon.  It  is  a  flagrant  instance  of  allowing 
a  conclusion  to  be  formed  by  motives  with  which 
logic  has  no  concern,  and  therefore  believing  more 
than  the  evidence  will  warrant.  But  whether  this  be 
so  or  not,  another  result  is  striking  and  obvious.  It 
is  undeniable  that  the  pleasantness  of  a  belief  is  an 
adequate  explanation  of  the  survival  of  the  belief,  in- 
dependently of  argument.  What  Newman  offers 
as  a  logical  process  is  really  an  analysis  of  the  con- 
ditions of  conviction,  which  proves  that  one  condition 
is  illogical,  and  he  therefore,  so  far,  destroys  the 
authority  of  the  conviction.  He  has  clearly  shown 
why  people  entertain  a  belief  in  the  absence  of  any 
reason  for  maintaining  it. 

The  result  of  Newman's  method  is  up  to  this 
point  purely  sceptical.  The  laws  of  belief  are  re- 
sponsible for  every  false  opinion  that  ever  was  formed  ; 
and  therefore,  if  the  bare  fact  of  belief  is  a  testimony 
to  its  validity,  we  have  equal  testimony  to  all  opinions. 
Each  man  must  follow  his  own  *  illative  sense ' ;  but 
no  common  measure  of  the  value  of  different  influences 
is  attainable.  Because  logic  cannot  supply  us  with  a 
decisive  test,  applicable  at  once,  its  use  as  an  organ- 
ising and  unifying  principle  is  virtually  denied.  From 
this  difficulty  there  is  one  mode  of  escape.  We  are 
invited  to  measure  beliefs   by  their  intensity  and 


230 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


fertility.     If,  then,  it  is  possible  to  assign  a  class  of 
beliefs,  the  validity  of  which  may  be  recognised  by 
an  internal   mark,  we  can   arrive  at   certainty.     In 
such  a  case  we  should  not  only  know,  but  know  that 
we  know ;  and  the  problem  becomes  an  inquiry  into 
the    conditions    of    such    beliefs,    or,    as    Newman 
would  call  them,    *  certitudes.'     If    there   are  such 
beliefs,  they  ought  to  have  two  marks.    They  must  be 
permanent  when  reached,  because  truth  is  indepen- 
dent of  time,  and  universal,  because  it  is  the  same  for 
all  men.    We  cannot  know  that  we  know  unless  we 
know  that  our  opinion  will  not  change ;  and  if  we  are 
certain  of  a  truth,  we  are  certain  that  it  must  be 
true   for    everybody.     Newman    inquires,   therefore, 
whether  certitude,  the  highest  degree  of  belief  attain- 
able, is  *  indefectible.'     He   comes  to  the  conclusion 
that   certitude   is   generally  indefectible,   though   he 
candidly  admits  that  there  are  exceptions  to  the  prin- 
ciple, and  can  only  extenuate  their  number  and  im- 
portance   by    hypothetical    interpretations.     People 
seldom  change  their  minds— as  is  pretty  obvious — 
after  reaching  a  high  degree  of  conviction ;  but  they 
do  at  times  change.     And,  moreover,  the  test  is  prac- 
tically useless,  for  we  cannot  know  beforehand  which 
are  the  indefectible  beliefs.     The  other  test  is  still  more 
palpably  hopeless.     There  is  a  conflict  of  certitudes. 
Mahomedans,  and  Catholics,  and  Positivists  are  all 
equally  peremptory  in   asserting  the  most  opposite 
beliefs.     Where,  then,  are  we  to  turn  for  certainty  ? 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


231 


This  is,  of  course,  a  new  shape  of  a  very  old 
difficulty.  Newman  has  discussed  it  elsewhere,  and 
given  a  solution  substantially  identical  with  that  more 
elaborately  set  forth  in  the  '  Grammar  of  Assent.' 
Since  the  first  inference  from  history  is  obviously 
sceptical,  inasmuch  as  every  opinion  has  been  held 
as  an  historical  fact,  we  can  only  produce  an  appear- 
ance of  consent  by  disquaHfying  certain  classes. 
Newman  accordingly  sets  aside  a  large  number  of 
thinkers  whose  opinions  are  described  in  a  j-hetorical 
and,  therefore,  unintentionally  unfair  passage.'  They 
are  the  *  opinions,'  he  says,  which  'characterise  a 
civilised  age.'  He  cannot  argue  with  men  who  will 
not  admit  his  first  principles,  and  it  is  needless  to 
argue  with  them,  because  the  system  of  opinions  in 
question  *  contradicts  the  primary  teachings  of  Nature 
in  the  human  race  wherever  a  religion  is  found  and 
its  workings  can  be  ascertained.'  The  *  system  of 
opinion '  which  thus  disqualifies  a  reasoner  is  that 
which  is  variously  called  utilitarian,  materialistic, 
atheistical,  and  so  forth ;  and  the  primary  teachmg 
of  human  nature  which  contradicts  it  is  the  teach- 
ing of  the  conscience.  Newman,  as  we  must  re- 
member, distinguishes  the  conscience  from  the  moral 
sense,  the  conscience  being  the  sense  of  sin  as  an 
affront  to  the  Almighty— the  *  trembHng  of  a  guilty 
thing  surprised '  in  presence  of  its  Maker.  It  is  in 
conscience   thus   defined   that   he,   like   his   master, 

'  Grammar  of  Assent,  p.  411. 


232 


NEWMAN'S  THEOKY   OF  BELIEF 


Butler,  finds  the  voice  of  God,  and  upon  its  intimations 
rests  substantially  the  whole  fabric  of  his  theology. 

This  exclusion  of  the  witnesses  on  one  side  is 
generally  justified  by  the  analogy  of  the  blind 
and  the  seeing.  It  would  be  useless,  it  is  said,  to 
argue  with  a  blind  man  about  colours,  or  with 
a  dull  conscience  about  sin.  The  analogy  breaks 
down  in  one  important  point.  No  seeing  man  ever 
had  a  difficulty  in  convincing  a  blind  man  of  his 
blindness.  The  blind  man  cannot  know  what  sight 
is,  but  he  cannot  help  knowing  that  others  possess 
some  faculty  of  which  he  is  deprived.  No  such  pro- 
cess is  applicable  to  the  infidel.  He  is  bold  enough 
to  maintain  that  he,  too,  has  a  conscience — that  is, 
that  he  is  as  sensitive  as  the  believer  to  the  emotions 
described  by  that  name.  He  only  denies  the  inter- 
pretation put  upon  it  by  the  theologian.  He  cannot 
be  confuted,  like  the  blind  man,  by  any  summary 
appeal  to  facts ;  for  the  facts  to  which  the  theologian 
appeals  are  beyond  all  verification  by  experience. 
Thus  we  see  at  once  that  from  the  outset  all  hopes  of 
an  objective  test  of  religious  truth  must  be  abandoned. 
You  can  prove  to  a  blind  man  that  you  see  things  at 
a  distance.  You  cannot  prove  to  the  infidel  that  you 
see  a  transcendental  world. 

In  the  next  place,  conscience  is,  according  to 
Newman,  the  root  of  all  superstition.  Every  real 
religious  belief  is  an  interpretation  of  its  voice. 
Therefore  an   argument  from   conscience   would   be 


■ 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


233 


equally  applicable  in  defence  of  all  religions,  both  of 
the  true  and  of  the  false  superstitions  ;  for  super- 
stition only  differs  from  religion  by  the  falsity  of 
the  alleged  facts.  Hence  Newman  has  to  defend 
religion  as  against  superstition  by  an  appeal  to 
specific  evidence.  There  must,  he  admits,  be  a  con- 
clusive argument  to  justify  our  belief ;  but  the  argu- 
ment can  only  be  valid  or  intelligible  to  those  who,  in 
the  first  place,  have  a  conscience  —who,  in  the  second 
place,  accept  his  interpretation  of  its  teaching — and 
who,  in  the  third  place,  are  impressed  by  the  special 
facts  which  he  is  able  to  adduce  in  favour  of  the  one 
true  Church.  Thus,  in  the  last  resort,  he  relies  upon 
private  judgment — upon  his  own  private  belief,  that 
is,  that  he  can  convince  people  in  a  certain  state  of 
mind  on  being  presented  with  a  certain  set  of 
evidence.  He  cannot  say  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  all 
qualified  people  are  convinced,  in  which  case  there 
would  be  a  show  of  some  objective  test ;  for  many  un- 
believers assert  that  they  possess  a  conscience,  and 
even  found  their  unbelief  partly  upon  the  testimony 
of  their  conscience.  Many,  too,  who  accept  his  theory 
of  the  conscience  remain  unconvinced  by  the  facts  in 
favour  of  his  special  conclusions.  The  only  ground 
for  denying  their  qualification  would  be  the  fact  of 
their  unbelief;  and  Newman  is  too  good  a  logician 
to  indulge  in  the  circular  argument  that  a  religion  is 
true  because  the  qualified  are  convinced,  and  that 
they  are  qualified  because  convinced. 


234 


NEWMAN'S  THEOKY  OF  BELIEF 


We  have,  therefore,  an  apology  for  Christianity 
which  runs  in  the  main  upon  the  old  lines.  One  part 
of  it  is  enough  for  my  purpose.  So  reverent  a  dis- 
ciple of  Butler  naturally  lays  a  stress  upon  the  analogy 
between  natural  and  revealed  religion.  *  The  belief  in 
revealed  truths  depends  on  belief  in  natural.'  •  Amongst 
the  most  remarkable  of  natural  beliefs  is  the  belief  in 
the  efficacy  of  sacrifice.  Men  are  not  only  sensible  of 
sin,  so  long  as  their  conscience  is  allowed  to  speak,  but 
believe  that  guilt  may  be  purged  by  offerings  and  by 
vicarious  suffering.  This  belief,  universal  in  all  su- 
perstitions, is  taken  up,  purified,  and  then  sanctioned 
by  the  supernatural  authority  of  revelation.  Civili- 
sation unfortunately  destroys  the  belief,  because  it 
tends  to  encourage  Materialism  and  to  deaden  the 
conscience.  And  thus  we  come  back  to  the  diffi- 
culty already  noticed  in  the  theory  of  development. 
* Civihsation '  pronounces  against  Newman:  why  is 
civilisation  wrong?  The  answer  involves  some  re- 
markable assumptions. 

Civilisation  is  wrong  because  it  contradicts  the 
primary  teaching  of  Nature.  The  proof  is,  that 
savages  recognise  the  efficacy  of  sacrifice,  whilst  civi- 
lised men  lose  it.  We  all  agree  that  savages  believe 
that  they  have  offended  an  unseen  power,  and  that 
they  can  pacify  him  by  presents.  Civilised  men  do 
not.  The  inference  is  that  savages  have,  and  civilised 
men  have  not,   '  a  conscience,'  that  is,  a  sense  of 

*  Grammar  of  Assent,  p.  408. 


NEWMAN'S  THEOKY   OF  BELIEF 


235 


remorse  for  evil-doing.  But  the  opposite  inference 
is  more  natural,  namely,  that  a  belief  in  the  effi- 
cacy of  sacrifice  does  not  imply  a  conscience.  A 
sacrifice  doubtless  implies  a  belief  that  an  unseen 
being  can  be  pacified,  but  it  does  not  in  the  least  tend 
to  imply  that  his  anger  is  caused  by  sin.  The  argu- 
ment proves  too  much.  We  find  sacrifice  amongst 
races  who  appear  to  be  not  only  deficient  in  a  con- 
science, but  totally  devoid  of  a  moral  sense.  The 
King  of  Dahomey  makes  a  blood-bath — not,  surely,  as 
an  expiation  for  drinking  too  much  rum,  but  to  bribe 
an  unseen  power  to  help  him  to  kill  enemies  and  get 
more  blood.  When  a  god  becomes  moral,  and  there- 
fore hates  sin,  the  old  mode  of  pacifying  an  immoral 
deity  is  applied  to  pacify  the  guardian  of  morality. 
But  the  more  people  reason,  the  less  they  believe  in 
sacrifice.  The  most  enlightened  amongst  the  Jews 
denounced  the  belief  as  superstitious  in  words  familiar 
to  us  all,  not  because  their  consciences  were  less  sen- 
sitive, but  because  the  remedy  appeared  unworthy. 
The  Christian  religion  spiritualised  the  doctrine — that 
is,  rendered  it  less  coarse  and  material.  Protestants 
and  rationalists  have  abandoned  it  more  decisively, 
and  (if  they  are  to  be  believed)  for  precisely  the  oppo- 
site reason  to  that  assigned  by  Newman.  The  higher 
the  conception  of  a  deity,  the  less  possible  the  belief 
that  he  could  be  pacified  by  the  blood  of  bulls  and 
goats,  or  even  by  the  blood  of  an  innocent  and  divine 
sufferer.    What  are  we  to  think  of  a  theory  which 


286 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


makes  Spinoza  a  type  of  the  man  without,  and  the 
King  of  Dahomey  a  type  of  the  man  with,  a  con- 
science ?  Only  this,  I  imagine,  that  we  arrive  at  a 
mere  caricature  of  true  historical  method  so  long  as 
we  persist  in  looking  at  history  through  the  old 
arbitrary  prejudices. 

And  now  it  may  be  observed  that,  if  we  confine 
ourselves  to  a  statement  of  facts,  Newman  is  en- 
tirely at  one  with  the  ordinary  infidel.  Both  say 
that  sacrifice  is  a  survival  of  superstitions  found  in 
their  grossest  form  amongst  barbarous  races  :  both 
say  that  the  power  of  the  Church  is  chiefly  founded 
upon  its  mode  of  pacifying  the  sense  of  remorse  by  an 
elaborate  system  of  absolution :  both  say  that,  as 
the  intellect  is  enlightened,  as  men  become  more  re- 
fined, more  gentle,  more  rational,  more  free  from  the 
old  brutal  instincts,  the  belief  tends  to  disappear. 
Newman  infers  that  these  phenomena  imply  the 
deadening  of  conscience  ;  the  infidel,  that  they 
imply  the  gradual  development  of  a  loftier  concep- 
tion of  the  universe.  And  if  Newman  is  asked 
why  he  accepts  his  own  solution,  he  can  only  reply 
that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  convinces  his  *  illative 
sense,'  and  that  he  believes  that  it  would  convince  the 
illative  sense  of  other  people,  provided  that  they  have 
a  conscience,  that  they  interpret  it  in  the  way  that  he 
does,  and  that  the  arguments  are  fairly  set  before 
them.  To  which  one  can  only  say  that,  undoubtedly, 
if  any  man  is  precisely  in  Newman's  state  of  mind. 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


237 


and  has  precisely  the  same  arguments  put  before 
him,  he  will  come  to  precisely  the  same  conclu- 
sion. But  any  attempt  at  a  common  measure  of 
truth  as  an  '  objective  test '  is  explicitly  pronounced 
impossible ;  and  thus  we  are  once  more  landed  in 
complete  scepticism.  A.  or  B.  may  be  convinced,  but 
nothing  can  be  proved.  In  short,  here  for  the  last 
time  Newman  has  substituted  an  explanation  of  the 
vitality  of  a  creed  for  a  justification  of  its  claims. 
His  writings  show  most  admirably  what  are,  in  fact, 
the  methods  by  which  Catholicism  has  thriven  and 
survives  ;  but,  so  far  from  showing  those  methods  to 
be  reasonable,  he  really  shows  conclusively  that  they 
involve  the  operation  of  distinctly  illogical  induce- 
ments to  belief.  Such  is  the  natural  result  of  con- 
founding a  theory  of  belief  with  an  organon  of  proof. 
If  the  ultimate  test  of  truth  is  the  power  of  creed  to 
convince  men's  minds  by  whatever  process,  we  are 
inevitably  led  to  the  conclusion  that  all  existing  be- 
liefs are  equally  justified.  Some  are  more  vigorous 
than  others  ;  but  in  a  logical  sense,  if  objective  tests 
are  set  aside,  they  are  all  on  a  footing  of  equality. 

And  now  we  may  briefly  define  the  general  out- 
come of  Newman's  teaching.  It  is,  in  two  words, 
a  genuine  theory  of  development  in  the  scientific 
sense,  omitting  the  doctrine  of  the  survival  of  the 
fittest.  The  evolutionist  holds  that,  in  the  struggle 
for  existence,  the  truest  opinion  tends  to  survive  ;  and 
thus,  that  whilst  no  generation  is  in  possession  of  the 


»Je  4*1  .* 


■•OB 


,H*_^.i.c.-'*" 


238 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY  OF  BELIEF 


whole  truth,  the  history  of  belief  is  that  of  a  slow 
gravitation   towards   truth.     Some    doctrines   which 
have  survived  all  changes,  and  strengthened  under  all 
conditions,  may  be  regarded  as  definitely  established, 
or   at   least  as  indefinitely  close  approximations  to 
truth.     Others  are  disappearing,  or  requiring  trans- 
formation.    By  studying  the  history  of  opinion  from 
this  point  of  view  we  may  obtain,  not  a  self-subsist- 
ing and  independent  system  of  philosophy,  but  an 
indispensable  guide  towards  further  approximations. 
We  can  use  history  without  being  under  the  tyranny 
of  the  past.    We  can  value  the  postulates  upon  which 
men  have  acted  without  investing  them  with  super- 
natural authority.     Newman^  ignoring  this  test,  and 
retaining  enough   of   the  old  arbitrary  assumptions 
to  reject  all  progress  as  a  baseless  dream,  sees  no- 
thing bu^  huge  welter  of  struggling  creeds,  differing 
only  in  degrees  of  vitality  or  permanencey^  Having 
no  trust  in  independent  reason,  he  has  virtually  to 
take  that  creed  which  happens  to  be  most  congenial 
to  his  feelings,  and  justifies  himself  by  the  incongru- 
ous intervention  of  a  supernatural  authority^  He  can 
thus  comfortably  appeal  to  history  so  long  as  it  testi- 
fies to  the  life  of  a  creed,  and  contemptuously  reject 
Its  testimony  when  it  exhibits  the  creed  as  ossifying 
or  decaying.     As  soon  as  his  tests  give  unpleasant 
results,  he  can  discard  them  as  irrelevant.  rThough 
the  adoption    of    such   a  method   does   not  justify 
Kingsley's  absurd  imputation  that  Newman  preached 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY   OF  BELIEF 


239 


that  truth  was  not  a  virtue,  it  certainly  sanctions  a 
method  of  playing  fast  and  loose  with  facts  which 
makes  the  apparent  appeal  to  history  a  mere  illusion./ 
The  whole  pith  of  the  *  Grammar  of  Assent,'  so  far 
as  it  is  original,  is  in  the  assertion  that  belief  is  a 
personal  product  in  such  a  sense  that  no  common 
measure  between  different  minds  is  attainable. 
Therefore  agreement  can  only  be  produced  by  super- 
natural intervention;  or,  in  other  words,  rational 
agreement  is  impossible. 

If,  then,  it  is  asked  how  we  are  to  escape  from  such 
scepticism  as  Newman's,  whilst  appealing,  as  we 
admit  that  we  must  appeal,  to  experience  as  the 
ultimate  test  of  truth,  the  answer  is  plain.  We  must 
take  Newman's  own  criterion,  not  narrowed  by 
his  prejudices,  nor  perverted  by  his  introduction  of 
arbitrary  assumptions.  Sectirus  jicdicat  orbis  terra- 
rum  ;  but  orbis  t  err  arum  must  not  mean  that  part  of 
the  earth's  surface  which  is  overlooked  by  the  spire  of 
St.  Mary's,  or  even  that  wider  region  whose  inhabi- 
tants look  with  reverence  to  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's. 
The  deposit um  of  faith  which  we  must  accept  is  not 
that  which  is  guarded  by  any  single  Church,  however 
august  in  its  history  and  imposing  in  its  pretensions. 
It  is  that  body  of  scientific  truth  which  is  the  slow 
growth  of  human  experience  through  countless  ages, 
and  which  develops  by  the  labour  of  truth-loving 
men,  and  under  the  remorseless  pressure  of  hard  facts. 
We  cannot  accept  as  proved  the  rash  solutions  of  the 


240 


NEWMAN'S  THEORY   OF  BELIEF 


NEWMAN'S  THEOEY  OF  BELIEF 


241 


eternal  riddle  which  have  commended  themselves  to 
savages,  or  to  philosophers,  or  to  any  arbitrary  selec- 
tion of  men  who  happen  to  agree  with  us,  or  to  any 
organisation  which  has  enabled  men  to  find  a  common 
mouthpiece  for  the  utterance  of  their  emotions. 
Dreams,  however  gorgeous,  however  richly  they  em- 
body the  thoughts  of  old  poets  and  sages,  and  genera- 
tions of  the  noblest  men  on  earth,  cannot  pass  muster. 
We  can  take  nothing  as  proved  but  that  which  has 
stood  the  hard  test  of  verification  by  multitudinous 
experience.  The  authority,  we  must  admit,  oi  any 
individual  is  infinitesimal ;  his  chances  of  error  innu- 
merable. No  man  can  say,  This  is  true  because  I 
think  it ;  nor  can  any  man  hold  that  he  has  grasped  the 
full  and  ultimate  truth  upon  any  subject.  But,  if  the 
race  is  to  progress,  men  must  not  be  content  to  bow 
to  the  first  authority  at  hand,  even  if  it  shows  signs 
of  strong  and  prolonged  vitality.  We  must  venture 
something  to  win  anything.  Our  principle  must  be  to 
place  ourselves  in  that  direction  which  is  shown  to 
have  the  greatest  promise  by  the  general  set  of 
opinions  of  qualified  thinkers.  Those  opinions  have 
the  most  authority  which  are  most  rational ;  and  the 
safest  test  of  rationality  is  that  they  have  commended 
themselves  to  independent  inquirers,  who  themselves 
acknowledged  no  law  but  reason,  and  have  not  been 
propagated  by  ignorance,  blind  submission  to  arbitrary 
rules,  and  reluctance  to  believe  unpleasant  truths. 
There  is  no  infallible   guide  and   no   complete   and 


definitive  system  of  universal  truth ;  but  by  such 
means  we  can  attain  enough  truth  to  secure  the  wel- 
fare and  progress  of  the  race  and  a  continual  approxi- 
mation towards  a  fuller  and  more  definite  body  of 
definitive  truth.  If  we  deny  that  there  is  any  such 
progress,  we  may  pick  up  a  creed  at  random.  If  we 
admit  it,  we  can,  by  careful  observation  and  the  use 
of  all  available  logical  canons  and  accumulated  know- 
ledge, throw  some  light  upon  the  great  problem.  What 
is  the  conception  of  the  universe  to  which  the  previous 
history  of  inquiry  shows  that  men's  minds  are  gradu- 
ally conforming  themselves  as  they  become  more 
rational  ? 


B 


242 


TOLERATION 


243 


TOLEBA  TION 
I. — Kestraint  of  Beliefs 

Mr.  Froude,  in  his  '  Life  of  Carlyle,'  incidentally  sets 
forth  a  theory  of  toleration.     Cromwell,  he  tells  us, 
held  Romanism  to  be  *  morally  poisonous  ' ;  therefore 
Cromwell  did  not  tolerate.     We  have  decided  that  it 
is  no  longer   poisonous  ;    therefore    we   do   tolerate. 
Cromwell's  intolerance  implied  an  intense  '  hatred  of 
evil  in  its  concrete  form ' ;    our   tolerance   need  not 
imply  any  deficiency  in  that  respect,   but  merely  a 
difference  of  opinion  as  to  facts.     Upon  this  showing, 
then,  we  are  justified  in  extirpating,  by  fire  and  sword, 
any  doctrine,  if  only  we  are  sincerely  convinced  that 
it  is  *  morally  poisonous.'     I  do  not  take  this  as  a  full 
account  either  of  Carlyle's  theory  or  of  Mr.  Froude's. 
I  quote  it  merely  as  a  pointed  statement  of  a  doctrine 
which  in  some  ways  would   appear  to    follow    more 
directly  from  the  utilitarianism   which    Carlyle   de- 
tested.     The  argument  is    simple.      A    *  poisonous 
opinion '  is  one  which  causes  a  balance  of  evil.     The 
existence  of  such  opinions  is  admitted.     Nor,  again, 
is  it  denied  that  under  certain  conditions  an  opinion 
may  be  suppressed  by  persecution.     The  persecution, 


then,  of  a  poisonous  opinion  must  do  some  good,  and 
must  produce  a  balance  of  good  if  the  evil  effects  of 
the  opinion  suppressed  exceed  the  various  evils  due 
to  the  persecution.  But  that  which  causes  a  balance 
of  good  is  right  according  to  utilitarians ;  and  there- 
fore persecution  may  sometimes  be  right.  If  you 
have  to  suppress  a  trifling  error  at  the  cost  of  much 
suffering,  you  are  acting  wrongly,  as  it  would  be 
wrong  to  cure  a  scratch  by  cutting  off  a  finger.  But 
it  may  be  right  to  suppress  a  poisonous  opinion  when 
the  evil  of  the  opinion  is  measured  by  the  corruption 
of  a  whole  social  order,  and  the  evil  of  the  persecu- 
tion by  the  death,  say,  of  twelve  apostles.  In  such 
a  case  it  is  expedient,  and  therefore  right,  that  one 
man  or  a  dozen  should  perish  for  the  good  of  the 
people. 

Mill  attacked  the  applicability,  though  not  the 
first  principle,  of  this  reasoning  in  the  most  forcible 
part  of  his  *  Liberty.'  He  argues  in  substance  that 
the  collateral  evils  due  to  persecution  are  always,  or 
almost  always,  excessive.  He  could  not,  as  a  utiH- 
tarian,  deduce  toleration  from  some  absolute  a  priori 
principle.  But  by  pointing  out  evil  consequences 
generally  overlooked,  he  could  strengthen  the  general 
presumption  against  its  utility  in  any  particular  case. 
His  utilitarian  opponents  may  still  dispute  the  suffi- 
ciency of  his  reasoning.  They  urge,  in  substance, 
that  the  presumption  is  not  strong  enough  to  justify 
an  absolute  rule.     Granting  that  there  is  a  presump- 

u  2 


244 


TOLEKATION 


tion  against  persecution  generally,  and  that  all  the 
evils  pointed  out  by  Mill  should  be  taken  into  account, 
yet,  they  say,  it  is  still  a  question  of  expediency.     We 
must  be  guided  in  each  particular  case  by  a  careful 
balance  of  the  good  and  evil,  and  must  admit  this 
general  presumption  only  for  what  it  is  worth  ;  that  is, 
as  a  guiding  rule  in  doubtful  cases,  or  where  we  do  not 
know  enough  to  balance  consequences  satisfactorily, 
but  not  as  possessing  sufficient  authority  to  override 
a  clear  conclusion  in  the  opposite  sense.     Practically, 
we  may  assume,  the  difference  comes  to  very  little. 
Mill's  opponents  might  often  be  as  tolerant  as  himself. 
He  says,  indeed,  that  toleration  is  the  universal  rule  ; 
yet  even  he  might  admit   that,   as   in   other  moral 
problems,  a  casuist  might  devise  circumstances  under 
which  it  would  cease  to  be  an  absolute  rule.      On  the 
other  hand,  his  opponents,  though  holding  in  theory 
that  each  case  has  to  be  judged  on  its  merits,  would, 
in  fact,  agree  that  no  case  ever  occurs  at  the  present 
time  in  which  the  balance  is  not  in  favour  of  tolera- 
tion.    The   discussion,  therefore,  has   less   practical 
application  than   one  might  at   first  sight  suppose. 
One  man  says,  *  Toleration  is  always  right,  but  at 
times  this,  like  other  moral  rules,  may  be  suspended.* 
The  other,  '  It  is  not  a  question  of   right  or  wrong, 
but  of  expediency  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  in  almost 
every  conceivable  case,  toleration  is  clearly  expedient.' 
It  is  only,  therefore,   as   illustrating  an  interesting 
ethical  problem  —interesting,  that  is,  to  people  capable 


TOLERATION 


245 


of  feeling  an  interest  in  such  gratuitous  logic-chopping 
— that  I  would  consider  the  problem. 

I  remark,  therefore,  in  the  first  place,  that  one 
argument  of  considerable  importance  scarcely  receives 
sufficient  emphasis  from  Mill.  The  objection  taken 
by  the  ordinary  common-sense  of  mankind  to  per- 
secution is,  very  often,  that  the  doctrines  enforced  are 
false.  Toleration,  beyond  all  doubt,  has  been  ad- 
vanced by  scepticism.  It  is  clearly  both  inexpedient 
and  wrong  to  burn  people  for  not  holding  erroneous 
beliefs.  Mill  extends  the  argument  to  cases  where 
power  and  truth  are  on  the  same  side ;  but  he  scarcely 
brings  out  what  may  be  called  the  specifically  moral 
objection.  I  may  hold  that  Komanism  is  false  and 
even  *  poisonous.'  I  may  still  admit  that  a  sincere 
Komanist  is  not  only  justified  in  believing — for,  so  far 
as  his  belief  appears  to  him  to  be  reasonable,  he  cannot 
help  believing — but  also  that  he  is  morally  bound  to 
avow  his  belief.  He  is  in  the  position  of  a  man  who 
is  sincerely  convinced  that  a  food  which  I  hold  to  be 
poisonous  is  wholesome,  or,  rather,  is  an  indispensable 
medicine.  If  he  thinks  so,  it  is  clearly  his  duty  to  let 
his  opinion  be  known.  A  man  holds  that  prussic  acid 
will  cure,  when  it  really  kills.  He  is  mistaken,  but 
surely  he  is  bound  to  impart  so  important  a  truth  to 
his  fellows.  So  long,  indeed,  as  men  held  that  it  was 
not  only  foolish,  but  wicked,  to  hold  other  religious 
opinions  than  their  own,  this  argument  did  not  apply. 
But  I  need  not  argue  that  sincere  errors  are  in  them- 


J  — 


246 


TOLERATION 


selves  innocent.      The  most  virtuous  of  men  will  be 
a  Calvinist  in  Scotland,  a  Catholic  in  Spain,  and  a 
Mohammedan  in  Turkey.     And  so  far  as  this  pos- 
sibility is   admitted,  and  as  the  contrary  conviction 
spreads— namely,   that   the   leaders  of  heresies   are 
generally   virtuous,    because    it    requires    virtue   to 
uphold  an  unpopular  opinion — the  dilemma  becomes 
pressing.     The  persecutor,   as   a  rule,   is  punishing 
the  virtuous  for  virtuous  conduct,  and,  moreover,  for 
conduct  which  he  admits  to  be  virtuous.     For  this  is 
not  one  of  those  cases  with  which  casuists  sometimes 
puzzle  themselves.     The  fact  that  a  man  thinks  him- 
self acting  rightly,  or  is  wicked  on  principle,  is  not  a 
sufficient  defence    against    legal   punishment.      If  a 
man  is  a  Thug,  the  Government  is  not  the  less  bound 
to  hang  him  because  he  thinks  murder  right.    A  thief 
must  be  punished,  though  he  objects  to  property  in 
general ;  and  a  man  who  deserts  his  wife,  though  he 
disapproves  of  marriage.      A  man   is  in  such  cases 
punished  for  an  action  which  the  ruler  holds  to  be 
immoral.     But  the  persecutor  has  to  punish  a  man 
precisely  for  discharging  a  duty  admitted  by  the  perse- 
cutor himself  to  be  a  duty,  and  a  duty  of  the  highest 
obligation.      If  the  duty  of  truthfulness  be  admitted, 
I  am  bound  not  to  express  belief  in  a  creed  which  I 
hold  to  be  false.     If  benevolence   be  a  duty,  I  am 
bound  to  tell  my  neighbour  how  he  can  avoid  hell- 
fire.     The  dilemma  thus  brought  about— the  necessity 
of  crushing  conscience  by   law— will  be  admitted  to 


TOLERATION 


247 


be  an  evil,  though  it  may  be  an  inevitable  evil.  The 
scandal  so  caused  is  one  main  cause  of  the  abhorrence 
felt  for  the  persecutor,  and  the  sympathy  for  his 
victims.  The  ordinary  statement  of  the  impolicy  of 
making  men  martyrs  testifies  to  the  general  force  of 
the  impression.  And  it  must,  in  fact,  be  taken  into 
account  upon  any  method  of  calculation,  in  so  far,  at 
least,  as  the  revulsion  of  feeling  excited  by  persecution 
tells  against  the  efficacy  of  the  method  adopted.  The 
persecutor,  that  is,  must  clearly  remember  that  by 
burning  a  man  for  his  honesty  he  is  inevitably 
exciting  the  disgust  of  all  who  care  for  honesty,  even 
though  they  do  not  prize  it  more  than  orthodoxy.  It 
must  be  in  all  cases  a  great,  even  if  a  necessary,  evil, 
that  the  law  should  outrage  the  conscience  of  its 
subjects.  And  whatever  conclusion  may  be  reached, 
it  is  desirable  to  consider  how  far  and  on  what  prin- 
ciples the  acceptance  of  this  dilemma  can  be  regarded 
as  unavoidable. 

The  utilitarian  can,  of  course,  give  a  consistent 
reply.  The  ultimate  criterion,  he  says,  of  virtue  is 
utility.  Sincerity  is  a  virtue  because  it  is  obviously 
useful  to  mankind.  That  men  should  be  able  to  trust 
each  other  is  a  first  condition  of  the  mutual  assistance 
upon  which  happiness  depends.  But  here  is  a  case 
in  which  we — that  is,  the  rulers — are  convinced  that 
sincerity  does  harm.  We  shall  be  illogical  if  we 
allow  the  general  rule  derived  from  particular  cases 
to  govern  us  in  the  case  where  it  plainly  does  not 


248 


TOLERATION 


apply.  We  admit  all  the  evils  alleged  :  the  suffering 
of  a  sincere  man  because  of  his  sincerity,  the  en- 
couragement to  hypocrisy,  the  demoralisation  of  those 
whose  lips  are  closed ;  but,  after  admitting  all  this, 
we  still  see  so  clearly  the  mischief  which  will  follow 
from  the  spread  of  the  opinions  in  question,  that  we 
pronounce  it  to  exceed  all  the  other  admitted  mischief, 
and  are  therefore  still  bound  to  persecute.  Turn  it 
and  twist  it  as  you  will,  the  question  still  comes  to 
this:  Which  way  does  the  balance  of  happiness 
incline  ?  Is  it  better  that  virtuous  Romanists  should 
go  to  the  stake  and  Romanism  be  so  stamped  out,  or 
that  so  poisonous  an  opinion  be  allowed  to  spread  ? 
We  fully  admit  all  the  evils  which  you  have  noted, 
and  willingly  put  them  in  the  balance ;  but  we  must 
weigh  them  against  the  evils  which  will  follow  from 
the  toleration,  and  our  action  must  be  determined  by 
a  final  comparison. 

Undoubtedly  the  argument  has  great  apparent 
strength.  It  fixes  the  issues  which  are  generally 
taken;  and  when  helped  by  the  assumption  that 
belief  in  a  creed  may  determine  a  man's  happiness 
for  all  eternity,  and  that  men  or  some  body  of  men 
may  possess  infallibility,  it  makes  a  very  imposing 
show.  Nor  do  I  wish  to  dispute  the  fundamental 
principle  ;  that  is,  the  principle  that  utility  is  in  some 
sense  to  be  the  final  criterion  of  morality.  I  think, 
however,  that  here,  as  in  other  cases,  a  thoroughgoing 
application  of  that  criterion  will  lead  us  to  a  different 


TOLERATION 


249 


conclusion  from  that  which  results  from  a  first  in- 
spection. And,  in  order  to  show  this,  I  must  try  to 
point  out  certain  tacit  assumptions  made  in  the 
application  of  this  principle  to  the  facts.  Granting 
that  we  must  test  persecution  by  its  effects  upon 
human  happiness,  I  must  add  that  we  cannot  fairly 
measure  these  effects  without  looking  a  little  more 
closely  into  the  conditions  under  which  they  are 
necessarily  applied.  The  argument  starts  from  the 
generalisation  of  something  like  a  truism.  The 
alleged  fact  is  simply  this  :  that  pain,  threatened  or 
inflicted,  will  stop  a  man's  mouth.  It  can  hardly 
convert  him,  but  it  will  prevent  him  from  converting 
others.  I  do  not  dispute  the  statement ;  few  of  us 
will  undertake  to  say  that  there  is  any  creed  which 
we  would  not  avow  or  renounce  rather  than  be  burnt 
alive.  We  might  possibly  prefer  distant  damnation 
to  immediate  martyrdom.  Many  men,  happily  for 
the  race,  have  been  more  heroic  ;  but  burning  stopped 
even  their  mouths,  and  so  far  suppressed  their  influ- 
ence. We  have,  however,  to  modify  this  statement 
before  we  can  apply  it  to  any  serious  purpose.  We 
have  to  show,  that  is,  that  we  not  only  suppress  the 
individual,  but  eradicate  the  opinion  from  society  ; 
and  this  raises  two  questions.  There  is  a  difficulty 
in  catching  the  opinion  which  is  to  be  suppressed, 
and  there  is  a  difficulty  about  arranging  the 
machinery  through  which  the  necessary  force  is  to 
be  supplied.     When  we  examine  the  conditions  of 


250 


TOLERATION 


success  in  the  enterprise,  it  may  turn  out  that  it  is 
impossible  in  many  cases,  and  possible  in  any  case 
only  at  the  cost  of  evils  which  would  more  than 
counterbalance  any  possible  benefit.  Only  by  such 
an  investigation  can  we  really  measure  the  total 
effect  of  persecution,  and  it  will,  I  think,  appear  to  be 
still  more  far-reaching  and  disastrous  than  is  implied 
even  by  Mill's  cogent  reasoning. 

Mill,  in  fact,  conducts  the  argument  as  though  he 
made  an   assumption   (for  I  will  not  say  that  he 
actually  made  it)  which  appears  to  me,  at  least,  to  be 
curiously  unreal.     His  reasoning  would  be  sometimes 
more  to  the  purpose  if  we  could  suppose  an  opinion 
to  be  a  sort  of  definite  object,  a  tangible  thing  like 
the  cholera  bacillus,  existing  in  a  particular  mind, 
as   the  germ  in   a   particular   body,   and   therefore 
capable  of  being  laid  hold   of    and  suppressed   by 
burning  the  person  to  whom  it  belongs,  as  the  germ 
is  suppressed  by  being  dipped  in  boiling  water.     This 
corresponds  to  what  one  may  call  the '  happy  thought ' 
doctrine  of  scientific  discovery.     Popular  writers  used 
sometimes  to  tell   the  story  of  Newton's  great   dis- 
covery as  though  Newton  one  day  saw  an  apple  fall, 
and  exclaimed,  *  Ah !  an  apple  is  a  kind  of  moon ! ' 
This  remark  had  occurred  to  no  one  else,  and  might 
never  have  struck  anybody  again.     If,  therefore,  you 
had  caught  Newton  on  the  spot  and  stamped  him  out, 
the  discovery  of  gravitation   might   have  been  per- 
manently suppressed.     Mill  would,  of  course,  have 


TOLERATION 


251 


perceived  the  absurdity  of  such  a  statement  as  clearly 
as  anyone ;  yet  he  seems  to  make  a  very  similar 
assumption  in  his  *  Liberty.'     It  is,  he  is  arguing,  a 

*  piece  of  idle  sentimentality '  that  truth  has  any 
intrinsic    power    of  prevailing  against    persecution. 

*  The  real  advantage  which  truth  has  consists  in  this — 
that  when  an  opinion  is  true  it  may  be  extinguished 
once,  twice,  or  many  times,  but  in  the  course  of  ages 
there  will  generally  be  found  persons  to  rediscover  it ' ; 
and  when,  he  adds,  it  is  rediscovered  in  a  propitious 
age,  it  may  *  make  such  head '  as  to  resist  later 
attempts  at  suppression.  Surely  this  is  a  most  in- 
adequate account  of  the  strength  of  truth.  The 
advantage  dependent  upon  a  chance  of  rediscovery  is 
equally  possessed  by  error.  Old  superstitions  are  just 
as  much  given  to  reappearance  as  old  truths.  Every- 
one who  has  examined  stupid  lads  knows  very  well 
that  the  blunders  which  they  make  are  just  as  uniform 
as  the  truths  which  they  perceive.  Given  minds  at  a 
certain  stage,  and  exposed  to  certain  external  con- 
ditions, we  can  predict  the  illusions  which  will  be 
generated.  So,  to  take  the  familiar  instances,  the 
mass  of  mankind  still  believes  that  the  sun  goes 
round  the  earth,  and  is  convinced  that  a  moving  body 
will  stop  of  itself,  independently  of  external  resistance. 
The  advantage  of  truth  is  surely  dependent  upon  the 
other  fact  that  it  can,  as  Mill  says,  '  make  head.'  It 
gathers  strength   by  existing;    it   gathers   strength, 

that   is,  because  it  can  be  verified  and   tested,   and 


pnf 


-*p 


252 


TOLERATION 


every  fresh  test  confirms  the  belief ;  and  it  gathers 
strength,  again,  in  so  far  as  it  becomes  part  of  a 
general  system  of  truths,  each  of  which  confirms, 
elucidates,  and  corroborates  the  others,  and  which 
together  form  the  organised  mass  of  accepted  know- 
ledge which  we  call  science.  So  far  as  we  are 
possessed  of  anything  that  can  be  called  scientific 
knowledge,  we  have  not  to  deal  with  a  list  of  separate 
assertions,  each  of  which  has  to  be  judged  upon  its 
own  merits,  and  each  of  which  may  stand  or  fall 
independently  of  all  the  others  ;  but  with  a  system  of 
interdependent  truths,  some  of  which  are  supported 
by  irresistible  weight  of  evidence,  whilst  others 
are  so  inextricably  intertwined  with  the  central  core 
of  truth  that  they  cannot  be  separately  rejected.  To 
talk,  therefore,  of  suppressing  an  opinion  as  if  it 
were  not  part  of  a  single  growth,  but  a  separable 
item  in  a  chaotic  aggregate  of  distinguishable  theories, 
is  to  overlook  the  most  essential  condition  of  bringing 
any  influence  to  bear  upon  opinion  generally. 

Consider,  first,  the  case  of  any  scientific  theory. 
Newton's  great  achievement  was  supposed  to  lead  to 
questionable  theological  inferences  ;  as,  indeed,  what- 
ever may  be  the  logical  inferences,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  it  was  fatal  to  the  mythological  imagery 
in  which  the  earth  appeared  as  the  centre  of  the 
universe.  Suppose,  then,  that  it  had  been  decided 
that  the  opinion  was  poisonous,  and  that  anybody 
who  maintained  that  the  earth  went  round  the  sun 


■•I 


TOLERATION 


253 


should  be  burnt.  Had  such  a  system  been  carried 
out,  what  must  have  happened  ?  If  we  suppose  it  to 
be  compatible  with  the  continued  progress  of  astro- 
nomical and  physical  inquiries,  this  particular  con- 
clusion might  still  be  ostensibly  avoided.  Kepler's 
discoveries,  and  all  the  astronomical  observations 
assumed  by  Newton,  might  have  been  allowed  to  be 
promulgated,  as  affording  convenient  means  of  cal- 
culation, and  Newton's  physical  theories  might  have 
been  let  pass  as  interesting  surmises  in  speculation, 
or  admitted  as  applicable  to  other  cases.  It  might 
still  be  asserted  that,  so  far  as  the  solar  system  was 
concerned,  the  doctrines  possessed  no  *  objective 
truth.'  Something  of  the  kind  was,  I  believe,  actually 
attempted.  It  needs,  however,  no  argument  to  show 
that  such  a  persecution  would  be  childish,  and  would 
be  virtually  giving  over  the  key  of  the  position  to  the 
antagonist,  with  some  feeble,  ostensible  stipulation  that 
he  should  not  openly  occupy  one  dependent  outwork. 
The  truth  would  not  have  been  suppressed,  but  the 
open  avowal  of  the  truth.  The  only  other  alternative 
would  have  been  to  suppress  physical  theories  and 
astronomical  observation  altogether,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  deduction  of  the  offensive  corollary.  In  such  a 
case,  then,  the  only  choice,  by  the  very  nature  of  the 
case,  is  not  between  permitting  or  suppressing  *an 
opinion,'  but  between  permitting  or  suppressing 
scientific  inquiry  in  general.  There  are,  no  doubt, 
bigots  and  stupid  people  enough  to  be  ready  to  suppress 


254 


TOLEKATION 


speculation  at  large,  but  they  would  find  it  hard  to  in- 
duce people  to  suppress  things  of  obvious  utility  ;  they 
cannot  suppress  the  study  of  astronomy  for  purposes 
of  navigation,  and  yet,  when  the  truth  has  been 
acquired  for  this  end,  its  application  to  others  follows 
by  a  spontaneous  and  irresistible  process.  The  victory 
is  won,  and  the  only  question  is,  whether  the  conqueror 
shall  march  in  openly  or  in  a  mask. 

This  familiar  example  may  illustrate  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  catching,  isolating,  and  suppressing  so 
subtle  an  essence  as  an  opinion.  Stop  all  thought, 
and  of  course  you  can  annihilate  the  particular  doc- 
trine which  it  generates.  But  the  price  to  pay  is  a 
heavy  one,  and  clearly  not  to  be  measured  by  the  par- 
ticular sets  of  consequences  which  result  from  the 
specified  dogma.  The  same  principle  is  everywhere 
operative.  The  gi'eatest  shock  lately  received  by  the 
conservative  theologians  has  been  due  to  the  spread 
of  Darwinian  theories.  How,  granting  that  rulers 
and  priests  had  at  their  disposal  any  amount  of 
persecuting  power,  would  they  have  proposed  to  sup- 
press those  theories  ?  They  object  to  the  belief  that 
men  have  grown  out  of  monkeys.  Would  they,  then, 
allow  men  to  hold  that  the  horse  and  ass  have  a 
common  ancestor ;  or  to  question  the  permanency  of 
genera  and  species  of  plants  ?  Would  they  prohibit 
Darwin's  investigations  into  the  various  breeds  of 
pigeons,  or  object  to  his  exposition  of  the  way  in 
which  a  multiplication  of  cats  might  be  unfavourable 


TOLERATION 


256 


to  the  fertilisation  of  clover  ?  The  principle  shows 
itself  in  the  most  trifling  cases  ;  once  established 
there,  it  spreads  by  inevitable  contagion  to  others ; 
the  conclusion  is  obvious  to  all  men,  whether  tacitly 
insinuated  or  openly  drawn.  To  suppress  it  you 
must  get  rid  of  the  primitive  germ.  When  once  it 
has  begun  to  spread,  no  political  nets  or  traps  can 
catch  so  subtle  an  element.  It  would  be  as  idle  to 
attempt  to  guard  against  it  as  to  say  that  small-pox 
may  rage  as  it  pleases  everywhere  else,  but  you  will 
keep  it  out  of  Pall  Mall  by  a  cordon  of  policemen  to 
stop  people  with  an  actual  eruption.  The  philosophy 
of  a  people  is  the  central  core  of  thought,  which  is 
affected  by  every  change  taking  place  on  the  remotest 
confines  of  the  organism.  It  is  sensitive  to  every 
change  in  every  department  of  inquiry.  Every  new 
principle  discovered  anywhere  has  to  find  its  place  in 
the  central  truths ;  and  unless  you  are  prepared  to 
superintend,  and  therefore  to  stifle,  thought  in  general, 
you  may  as  well  let  it  alone  altogether.  Superintend- 
ence means  stifling.  That  is  not  the  less  true,  even 
if  the  doctrine  suppressed  be  erroneous.  Assuming 
that  Darwinianism  is  wrong,  or  as  far  as  you  please 
from  being  absolutely  true,  yet  its  spread  proves 
conclusively  that  it  represents  a  necessary  stage  of 
progress.  We  may  have  to  pass  beyond  it ;  but  in 
any  case  we  have  to  pass  through  it.  It  represents 
that  attitude  of  mind  and  method  of  combining  obser- 
vations which  is  required  under  existing  conditions 


256 


TOLERATION 


It  may  enable  us  to  rise  to  a  point  from  which  we 
shall  see  its  inadequacy.  But  even  its  antagonists 
admit  the  necessity  of  working  provisionally,  at  least, 
from  this  assumption,  and  seeing  what  can  be  made 
of  it ;  and  would  admit,  therefore,  that  a  forcible 
suppression,  if  so  wild  an  hypothesis  can  be  enter- 
tained, would  be  equivalent  to  the  suppression,  not  of 
this  or  that  theory,  but  of  all  mental  activity. 

The  conclusion  is,  briefly,  that,  so  far  as  scientific 
opinion  is  concerned,  you  have  to  choose  between 
tolerating  error  and  suppressing  all  intellectual 
activity.  If  this  be  admitted  in  the  case  of  what  we 
call  *  scientific '  knowledge,  the  dilemma  presents 
itself  everywhere.  We  are  becoming  daily  more  fully 
aware  of  the  unity  of  knowledge ;  of  the  impossibility 
of  preserving,  isolating,  and  impounding  particular 
bits  of  truth,  or  protecting  orthodoxy  by  the  most 
elaborate  quarantine.  It  is  idle  to  speak  of  a  separa- 
tion between  the  spheres  of  science  and  theology,  as 
though  the  contents  of  the  two  were  entirely  separate. 
There  is,  doubtless,  much  misconception  as  to  the 
nature  of  the  relation  ;  false  inferences  are  frequently 
made  by  hasty  thinkers  ;  but  the  difference,  whatever 
it  may  be,  is  not  such  as  divides  two  independent 
series  of  observations,  but  such  that  every  important 
change  in  one  region  has  a  necessary  and  immediate 
reaction  on  the  other.  If  we  accept  the  principle  of 
evolution  --whether  we  take  the  Darwinian  version  or 
any  other  as  our  guide — as  applied  to  the  history  of 


TOLERATION 


257 


human  belief,  we  more  and  more  realise  the  undeni- 
able facts  that  the  history  must  be  considered  as  a 
whole  ;  that  the  evolution,  however  it  takes  place, 
has  to  follow  certain  lines  defined  by  the  successive 
stages  of  intellectual  development ;  that  it  consists  of 
a  series  of  gradual  approximations,  each  involving 
positive  errors,  or  at  least  provisional  assumptions 
accepted  for  the  moment  as  definitive  truths  ;  and 
that  every  widely-spread  belief,  whether  accurate  or 
erroneous,  has  its  place  in  the  process,  as  representing 
at  least  the  illusions  which  necessarily  present  them- 
selves to  minds  at  a  given  point  of  the  ascending 
scale.  The  whole  process  may  be,  and,  of  course, 
frequently  has  been,  arrested.  But,  if  it  is  to  take 
place  at  all,  it  is  impossible  to  proscribe  particular 
conclusions  beforehand.  The  conclusions  forbidden 
may,  of  course,  be  such  as  would  never  have  been 
reached,  even  if  not  forbidden.  In  that  case  the 
persecution  would  be  useless.  But  if  they  are  such 
as  would  commend  themselves  to  masses  of  men  but 
for  the  prohibition,  it  follows  that  they  are  necessary 
'  moments  '  in  the  evolution  of  thought,  and  there- 
fore can  only  be  suppressed  by  suppressing  that 
evolution. 

The  vagueness  of  the  argument  stated  in  these 
general  terms  is  no  bar  to  its  value  in  considering 
more  special  cases.  It  suggests,  in  the  first  place, 
an  extension  of  one  of  Mill's  arguments,  which  has 
been  most  frequently  criticised.     He  tries   to  prove 

s 


'i 


258 


TOLERATION 


this  advantage  of  persecution  by  a  rather  exaggerated 
estimate  of   the  value  of   contradiction.     *Even  ad- 
mitted truths,'  he  says,  *are  apt  to  lose  their  interest 
for   us  unless  stimulated  by  collision  with  the  con- 
tradictory error.'     It  is,  of  course,  obvious  to  reply 
that  we  believe  in  Euclid  or  in  the  ordinary  principles 
of  conduct,  though  nobody  ever  denies  that  two  sides 
of  a  triangle  are  greater  than  the  third,  or   doubts 
that  murder  is  objectionable.     An  opinion,  I  should 
say,  gains  vividness  rather  from  constant  application 
to  conduct  than  from   habitual  opposition.     But,  so 
far  as  Mill's  argument  has  to  do  with  toleration,  it 
seems  to  be  cogent,  and  to  derive  its  strength  from 
the  principle  I  am  defending.     Many  opinions,  if  left 
alone,  would  doubtless  die  out  by  inherent  weakness. 
It  would  be  idle  to  punish  men  for  maintaining  that 
two  and   two  make  live,  because  the  opinion  would 
never  survive  a  practical  application.     The  prohibi- 
tion of  a  palpably  absurd  theory  would  be  a  waste  of 
force,  and  might  possibly  suggest  to  a  few  eccentric 
people  that  there  must,  after  all,  be  something  to  say 
for   the   absurdity,   and   therefore,   if    for   no   other 
reason,  it  is  undesirable.     But  it  was,  of  course,  not 
of  such  opinions  that  Mill  was  thinking.     The  only 
opinions   which   anyone   would    seriously   desire    to 
suppress   are  plausible   opinions —opinions,  that   is, 
which  would  flourish  but  for  persecution  ;  and  every 
persecutor  justifies  himself   by  showing,  to  his  own 
satisfaction,   that    his    intervention   is   needed.     He 


I 


TOLEKATION 


269 


rejects  the  argument  by  which  Gamaliel  defended 
the  first  plea  for  toleration.  He  holds  that  opinions, 
though  coming  from  God,  require  human  defence. 
He  thinks  that  even  the  devil's  creed  would  flourish 
were  it  not  for  the  stake.  That  is  to  say,  persecution 
is  always  defended,  and  can  only  be  defended,  on  the 
ground  that  the  persecuted  opinion  is  highly  plausible, 
and  the  same  plausibility  of  an  opinion  is  a  strong 
presumption  that  it  is  an  essential  part  of  the  whole 
evolution.  Even  if  it  be  wrong,  it  must  represent 
the  way  in  which  a  large  number  of  people  will  think, 
if  they  think  at  all.  It  corresponds  to  one  aspect, 
though  an  incomplete  or  illusory  aspect,  of  the  facts. 
If  erroneous,  there  must  be  some  general  cause  of  the 
error ;  a  cause  which,  in  the  supposed  case,  must  be 
the  prevalence  of  some  erroneous  or  imperfect  belief 
in  the  minds  of  many  people.  The  predisposing 
cause  will  presumably  remain,  even  if  this  expression 
of  opinion  be  silenced.  And,  in  all  such  cases,  the 
effect  of  suppression  will  be  prejudicial  to  the  vigour 
even  of  the  true  belief.  The  causes,  whatever  they 
be,  which  obstruct  its  acceptance  will  operate  in  a 
covert  form.  Real  examination  becomes  impossible 
when  the  side  which  is  not  convicted  is  not  allowed 
to  have  its  reasons  for  doubt  tested ;  and  we  reach 
the  dilemma  just  stated.  That  is  to  say,  if  thought 
is  not  suppressed,  the  error  will  find  its  way  to  the 
surface  through  some  subterranean  channels  ;  whilst, 
if  thought  is  suppressed,  the  truth  and  all  speculative 

s  2 


260 


TOLEKATION 


TOLERATION 


261 


truth  jwill  of  course  be  enfeebled  with  the  general 
enfeeblement  of  the  intellect.  To  remedy  a  morbid 
growth  you  have  applied  a  ligature  which  can  only 
succeed  by  arresting  circulation  and  bringing  on  the 
mortification  of  the  limb.  To  treat  intellectual  error 
in  this  fashion  must  always  be  to  fall  into  the 
practice  of  quackery,  and  suppress  a  symptom  instead 
of  attacking  the  source  of  the  evil. 

The  assertion  is,  apparently,  at  least,  opposed  to 
another  doctrine  in  which  Mill  agrees  with  some  of 
his  antagonists.  He  says,  as  we  have  seen,  that  a 
belief  in  the  natural  prevalence  of  truth  is  a  piece  of 
idle  sentimentality ;  it  is  a  *  pleasant  falsehood '  to 
say  that  truth  always  triumphs  ;  *  history  teems  with 
instances  of  successful  persecution  ' ;  and  he  confirms 
this  by  such  cases  as  the  failure  of  the  Keformers  in 
Spain,  Italy,  and  Flanders,  and  of  the  various  attempts 
which  preceded  Luther's  successful  revolt.  Arguments 
beginning  *  all  history  shows  '  are  always  sophistical. 
The  most  superficial  knowledge  is  sufficient  to  show 
that,  in  this  case  at  least,  the  conclusion  is  not  demon- 
strated. To  prove  that  persecution  *  succeeded '  in 
suppressing  truth,  you  must  prove  that  without  per- 
secution truth  would  have  prevailed.  The  argument 
from  the  Reformation  must  surely  in  Mill  be  an 
argumentum  ad  hominem.  He  did  not  hold  that  Luther, 
or  Knox,  or  the  Lollards  preached  the  whole  truth  ; 
hardly,  even,  that  they  were  nearer  the  truth  than 
Ignatius  Loyola  or  St.  Bernard.     And   the  point  ia 


important.     For  when  it  is  said  that  the  Reformation 
was  suppressed  in  Italy  and   Spain   by  persecution, 
we  ask  at  once  whether  there  is  the  slightest  reason 
to  suppose  that,  if  those  countries  had  been  as  free 
as   England   at  the  present   day,  they  would  have 
become  Protestant?      Protestantism  had  its  day  of 
vitality,  and  in  some  places  it  is  still  vigorous ;  but 
with  all  the  liberty  of  conscience  of  modern  Italy,  the 
most  enthusiastic  Protestant  scarcely  expects  its  con- 
version before  the  millennium.     If,  when  there  is  a 
fair  field  and  no  favour,  Protestantism  stands  still, 
why  should  we  suppose  that  it  would  have  advanced  if 
it  had  always  been  free  ?    Many  writers  have  insisted 
upon  the  singular  arrest  of  the  Protestant  impulse. 
The  boundaries  between  Protestantism  and  Catholi- 
cism are  still  drawn  upon  the  lines  fixed  by  the  first 
great  convulsion.     It  is  at  least  as  plausible  to  attri- 
bute this  to  the  internal  decay  of  Protestantism  as  to 
the  external  barriers  raised  by  persecution.    In  the 
seventeenth  century  philosophical  intellects  had  al- 
ready  passed    beyond    the    temporary  compromise 
which    satisfied    Luther    and    his    contemporaries. 
Protestantism,  so  far  as  it  meant  a  speculative  move- 
ment, was  not  the  name  of  a  single  principle  or  a 
coherent  system  of  opinion,  but  of  a  mass  of  inconsis- 
tent theories  approximating  more  or  less  consciously 
to  pure    deism    or    '  naturalism.'      Victories    over 
Romanism  were  not  really  won  by  the  creed  of  Calvin 
and   Knox,   but   by   the    doctrines   of    Hobbes   and 


262 


TOLERATION 


Spinoza.  Otherwise  we  may  well  believe  the  Pro- 
testant creed  would  have  spread  more  rapidly,  instead 
of  ceasing  to  spread  at  all  precisely  when  persecution 
became  less  vigorous.  When  we  look  more  closely  at 
the  facts,  the  assumption  really  made  shows  its  true 
nature.  Persecution  might  strike  down  any  nascent 
Protestantism  in  Spain;  but  it  can  hardly  be  said 
that  it  created  the  very  zeal  which  it  manifested.  If 
no  persecution  had  been  possible,  the  enthusiasm  of 
Loyola  and  his  successors  might  (even  if  I  may  not 
say  would)  have  burnt  all  the  more  brightly.  And  if 
the  orthodox  had  been  forbidden  to  strike  a  foul  blow, 
they  might  have  been  equally  successful  when  con- 
fined to  legitimate  methods.  The  reasoning,  in  fact, 
is  simple.  Protestantism  died  out  when  persecution 
flourished.  But  persecution  flourished  when  zeal 
was  intense.  The  assumption  that  the  extinction  of 
heresy  was  due  to  the  persecution  is  not  required  to 
account  for  the  fact  that  it  did  not  spread  in  the 
regions  where  faith  was  strongest.  In  any  case,  if 
we  assume,  as  we  must  assume,  that  the  old  faith 
was  congenial  to  a  vast  number  of  minds,  we  might 
be  sure  that  it  would  triumph  where  it  had  the  most 
numerous  and  zealous  followers.  Under  the  condi- 
tions of  the  times,  that  triumph  of  course  implied 
persecution;  but  it  is  an  inversion  of  logic  to  put 
this  collateral  effect  as  the  cause  of  the  very  state  of 
mind  which  alone  could  make  it  possible.  So,  again, 
Protestantism  died  out   in  France  (which  Mill  does 


TOLERATION 


263 


not  mention)  and  survived  in  England  ;  and  in  Eng- 
land, says  Mill,  the  death  of  Elizabeth  or  the  life  of 
Mary  would  '  most  likely '  have  caused  its  extirpation. 
Possibly,  for  it  is  difficult  to  argue '  might  have  beens.' 
But  it  is  equally  possible  that  the  English  indifference 
which  made  the  country  pliable  in  the  hands  of  its 
rulers  would  have  prevented  any  effective  persecution, 
and  the  ineffectual  persecution  have  led  only  to  a  more 
thoroughgoing  revolution  when  the  Puritan  party  had 
accumulated  a  greater  stock  of  grievances.  If,  again. 
Protestantism  had  been  really  congenial  to  the  French 
people,  is  it  not  at  least  probable  that  it  would  have 
gathered  sufficient  strength  in  the  seventeenth  century 
—  whatever  the  disadvantages  under  which  it  actually 
laboured— to  make  a  subsequent  revival  of  vigorous 
persecution  impossible  ?  One  ultimate  condition  of 
success  lay,  partly,  at  any  rate,  in  the  complex 
conditions,  other  than  the  direct  action  of  rulers, 
which  predisposed  one  society  to  the  Catholic  and 
others  to  the  Protestant  doctrine ;  and  if  we  are  not 
entitled  to  assume  that  this  was  the  sole  ultimate 
and  determining  condition  of  the  final  division,  we 
are  certainly  not  entitled  to  seek  for  it  in  the  perse- 
cution which  is  in  any  land  a  product  of  a  spiritual 
force  capable  of  acting  in  countless  other  ways. 

Once  more  we  come  across  that  *  happy  thought ' 
doctrine  which  was  natural  to  the  old  method  of 
writing  history.  Catholics  were  once  content  to 
trace  the  English  Eeformation  to    the  wickeness  of 


264 


TOLERATION 


Henry  VIII.  or  Elizabeth  ;  Protestants,  to  the  sudden 
inspiration  of  this  or  that  Keformer.    Without  attempt- 
ing to  argue  the  general  question  of  the  importance 
of  great  religious  leaders,  this   at   least  is  evident: 
that  the  appropriate  medium  is  as  necessary  as  the 
immediate   stimulus.     There  were  bad  men   before 
Henry  VIII.,  and  daring  thinkers  and  Eeformers  before 
Luther.     The  Church  could  resist  plunder  or  reform 
whilst  it  possessed  sufficient  vital  force ;  and  the  ulti- 
mate condition  of  that  force  was  that  its  creeds  and  its 
worship  satisfied  the  strongest  religious  aspirations  of 
mankind.     Luther  at  an  earlier  period  would  have 
been  a  St.  Bernard.     Its  weakness  and  the  success 
of  assailants,   good   or   bad,   were   due,   as   no   one 
will  now  deny,  to  the  morbid  condition  into  which  it 
had  fallen,  from  causes  which  could  only  be  fully  set 
forth  by  the  profoundest  and  most   painstaking  in- 
vestigation.      If  this    be   granted,   it    follows   that 
Protestantism,  whether  a  wholesome  or  a  pernicious 
movement,  meant  the   operation  of  certain  widely- 
spread    and    deeply-seated   causes   rendering    some 
catastrophe  inevitable.     To  apply  an  effective  remedy 
it  would  have  been  necessary  to  remove  the  causes, 
to  restore  the  old  institutions  in  working  order,  and 
to  renew   the  vitality  of  the  faiths   upon  which  its 
vigour  essentially  depended.     So  far  as  the  opponents 
of  reform  relied  upon  persecution,  they  were  driving 
the  disease  inwards  instead  of  applying  an  effectual 
remedy.     Such  observations — too  commonplace  to  be 


TOLERATION 


265 


worth  more  than  a  brief  indication — must  be  indi- 
cated in  order  to  justify  the  obvious  limitations  to 
Mill's  estimate  of  the  efficacy  of  persecution.  In  the 
first  place,  it  is  not  proved  that  it  was  properly 
*  efficacious '  at  all ;  that  is,  that  the  limits  of  the 
creeds  would  not  have  been  approximately  the  same 
had  no  persecution  been  allowed.  Secondly,  if  effi- 
cacious, it  was  efficacious  at  a  cost  at  which  the 
immediate  suffering  of  the  martyrs  is  an  absurdly 
inadequate  measure.  In  Spain,  Protestantism  was 
stamped  out,  when  it  might  have  died  a  natural 
death,  at  the  price  of  general  intellectual  atrophy. 
Had  the  persecutors  known  that  the  system  from 
which  persecution  resulted  was  also  a  system  under 
which  their  country  would  decline  from  the  highest  to 
the  most  insignificant  position,  their  zeal  might  have 
been  cooled.  In  France,  again,  if  Protestantism  was 
ultimately  suppressed  by  the  State,  Catholics  of  to-day 
may  reckon  the  cost.  Thought,  being  (upon  that 
hypothesis)  forced  into  a  different  mode  of  expressing 
dissent,  has  not  only  brought  about  the  triumph  of 
unbelief,  but  the  production  of  a  type  of  infidelity  not 
only  speculatively  hostile  to  Catholicism,  but  ani- 
mated by  a  bitter  hatred  which  even  the  most  anti- 
Catholic  of  reasoners  may  regret.  I  am  unable  to 
decide  the  problem  whether  it  is  worth  while  to  save 
a  few  souls  at  the  moment  with  the  result  of  ultimately 
driving  a  whole  nation  to  perdition ;  but  it  is  one 
which  even  those  who  rely  upon  the  hell-fire  argu- 


266 


TOLERATION 


TOLERATION 


267 


ment  may  consider  worth  notice.  And  if  in  England 
we  have  escaped  some  of  these  mischiefs,  we  may  ask 
how  much  good  we  have  done  by  an  ineffectual 
persecution  of  Catholics  in  Ireland-a  point  upon 
which  it  is  needless  to  insist,  because  everyone 
admits  the  folly  of  ineffectual  persecution. 

The  facts,  so  considered,  seem  to  fit  best  with  the 
doctrine  which  I  am  advocating.      Persecution  may 
be  effective  at  the  cost  of  strangling  all  intellectual 
advance ;  it  may  be  successful  for  a  time  in  enforcing 
hypocrisy,  or,  in  other  words,  taking  the  surest  means 
of  producing  a  dry-rot  of  the  system  defended  ;  or, 
finally,  it  may  be  ineffectual  in  securing  its  avowed 
object,  but  singularly  efficacious  in  producing  bitter 
antipathy  and  accumulating  undying  ill-will  between 
hostile   sections   of  society.      When,   therefore,   the 
argument  is  stated  as  though  all  the  evils  to  be  put 
in  the  balance  against  persecution  were  the  pain  of 
the  immediate  sufferers  and  the  terror  of  sympathisers, 
I  should  say  that  the  merest  outside  of  the  case  has 
really  been  touched.      One    other    consideration  is 
enough  for  this  part  of   the  question.      Persecution 
may  discourage  unbelief,  but  it  cannot  be  maintained 
that  it  has  the  least  direct  tendency  to  increase  belief. 
Positively  it  must  fail,  whatever  it  may  do  negatively. 
The  decay  of  a  religion  means  a  decline  of  *  vital 
faith  '—of  a  vivid  realisation  of  the  formulse  verbally 
accepted.     That  is  the  true   danger  in   the   eyes  of 
believers  ;  and,  if  it  be  widely  spread,  no  burning  of 


heretics  can  tend  to  diminish  it.  People  do  not 
believe  more  vigorously  because  believers  in  a  dif- 
ferent creed  are  burnt.  They  only  become  more 
cowardly  in  all  their  opinions ;  and  some  other 
remedy  of  a  totally  different  nature  can  alone  be 
efficacious.  You  can  prevent  people  from  worshipping 
another  God,  but  you  cannot  make  them  more 
zealous  about  their  own.  And  perhaps  a  lukewarm 
believer  is  more  likely  to  be  damned,  certainly  he 
is  not  less  likely  to  be  mischievous,  than  a  vigorous 
heretic. 

To  complete  the  argument,  however,  or  rather  the 
outline  of  the  argument,  it  would  be  necessary  to 
follow  out  another  set  of  considerations.  Granting 
that  you  can  suppress  your  heresy  by  persecution 
enough,  we  have  to  ask  how  you  can  get  persecution 
enough.  Persecution  which  does  not  suppress  is  a 
folly  as  well  as  a  crime.  To  irritate  without  injuring 
is  mischievous  upon  all  hypotheses.  In  that  case,  if 
not  in  others,  even  cynics  allow  that  the  blood  of  the 
martyrs  is  the  seed  of  the  Church.  The  danger  of 
advertising  your  opponent  is  pretty  well  understood 
by  this  time,  and  popular  riots  suppressed  by  the 
police  are  the  very  thing  desirable  for  the  Salvation 
Army.  It  is  agreed,  then,  that  the  weapon  is  one 
to  be  used  solely  on  condition  that  it  is  applied  with 
sufficient  stringency.  Now,  if  we  ask  further  how 
this  is  to  be  obtained,  and  especially  if  we  ask  that 
question  in   the   light  of   the  preceding  inquiry,  we 


268 


TOLERATION 


shall   arrive  at    a    conclusion    diflBcult   to   state  in 
adequate  terms.      It  may  be  possible  to  stamp  out 
what   we  may  call  a  particular  opinion.      The  ex- 
periment, at  least,  has  often  been  tried,  though  I  do 
not  know  that  it  has  often  succeeded.    When  it  was 
criminal   to   speak   of    a   king's    vices,   the  opinion 
entertained  about  particular  kings  was  hardly  more 
flattering — though  flatterers  alone  could  speak  openly 
— than  it  is  now.      But   to   suppress  so  vague  and 
penetrating  a  thing  as  a  new  religious  opinion  is  a 
very  different  and  a  very  serious  matter.     The  change 
may  not  be  the  less  efficacious  because  it  is  not  overt. 
Nothing,  for  example,   could   be  easier  than  to  ad- 
vocate the  most  infidel  opinions  in  the  language  of 
perfect  orthodoxy.     The  belief  in  God  is  generally 
taken  to  be  a  cardinal   article  of  faith.     But  the 
words  may  be    made   to  cover  any  state  of  mind. 
Spinoza  and  Hobbes  both  professed  to  believe  in  a 
God  who,  to  their  opponents,  was  no  God  at  all.    The 
quaint    identification   of    'deist'   with   'atheist,'   by 
orthodox  writers,  is  an  illustration   of  the   possible 
divergence  of  meaning  under  unity  of  phrase.     One 
set  of  theologians  hold  to  the  conception  of  a  Being 
who  will  help  a  pious   leader  to  win  a  battle  if  a 
proper  request  be  made.     Another  set,  equally  sincere 
and  devout,  regard  any  such  doctrine  as  presumptuous 
and  profane.     Briefly,  what  is  common   to   all   who 
use  the  word,  is  a  substance  known  only  by  attributes 
which  are  susceptible  of  indefinite  variation.     And 


TOLERATION 


269 


what  is  true  of  this  is  true  of  all  articles  of  faith.  I 
will  be  a  believer  in  any  theological  dogma  to-morrow, 
if  you  will  agree  that  I  shall  define  the  words  pre- 
cisely as  I  please  ;  nor  do  I  think  that  I  should  often 
have  to  strain  them  beyond  very  respectable  precedents 
in  order  to  cover  downright  positivism.  How  is  this 
difficulty  to  be  met?  How  is  a  nominal  belief  in 
Christianity  to  be  guarded  from  melting  away  without 
any  change  of  phraseology  into  some  vague  pantheism 
or  agnosticism,  or,  in  the  other  direction,  to  a  de- 
grading anthropomorphism  ?  A  mere  chain  of  words 
is  too  easily  borne  to  be  cared  for  by  anybody.  You 
may  crush  a  downright  Tom  Paine  ;  but  how  are  you 
to  restrain  your  wily  latitudinarian,  who  will  swallow 
any  formula  as  if  he  liked  it  ?  Obviously,  the  only 
reply  can  be  that  you  must  give  discretionary  powers 
to  your  Inquisition.  It  must  be  empowered  to  judge 
of  tendencies  as  well  as  of  definite  opinions  ;  to  cross- 
examine  the  freethinker,  and  bring  his  heresy  to  open 
light ;  to  fashion  new  tests  when  the  old  ones  break 
down,  and  to  resist  the  very  first  approaches  of  the 
insidious  enemy  who  would  rationalise  and  extenuate. 
And,  further,  as  I  have  said,  the  same  authority  must 
lay  his  grasp,  not  only  on  theologians  and  philo- 
sophers, but  upon  every  department  of  thought  by 
which  they  are  influenced;  that  is  to  say,  upon 
speculation  in  general.  Without  this,  the  substance 
may  all  slip  away,  and  leave  you  with  nothing  but  an 
empty  shell  of  merely  formal  assertion.     The  task  is 


■wi 


270 


TOLEBATION 


TOLEKATION 


271 


of  course,  practicable  in  proportion  to  the  rarity  of 
intellectual  activity.  In  ages  when  speculation  was 
only  possible  for  a  rare  philosopher  here  and  there, 
it  might  be  easy  to  make  the  place  too  hot  to  hold 
him,  even  if  he  escaped  open  collision  with  authority. 
But  in  any  social  state  approaching  at  all  to  the 
present,  the  magnitude  of  the  task  is  obvious  beyond 
all  need  of  explanation. 

This  suggests  a  final  conclusion.  No  serious 
politician  assumes  offhand  that  a  law  will  execute 
itself.  It  may  be  true  that  drunkenness  and  heresy 
would  expire  together  if  every  drunkard  and  heretic 
could  be  hanged.  But  before  proposing  a  law  founded 
upon  that  opinion,  the  legislator  has  to  ask,  not  only 
whether  it  would  be  effective  if  applied,  but  whether 
it  could  be  applied.  What  are  the  conditions  of 
efficiency  of  law  itself?  Opponents  of  toleration 
seem  to  pass  over  this  as  irrelevant.  If  heretics  were 
always  burnt,  heresy  would  die  out.  Suppose  that 
granted,  how  does  it  apply  ?  The  question  as  to  the 
possibility  of  carrying  out  a  law  is  as  important  as 
any  other  question  about  it.  The  Legislature  is 
omnipotent  in  the  sense  that  whatever  it  declares  to 
be  a  law  is  a  law,  for  that  is  the  meaning  of  a  law ; 
but  it  is  as  far  as  possible  from  omnipotence  in  the 
sense  of  being  able  to  impose  any  rule  in  practice. 
For  anything  to  be  effective  persecution  you  require 
your  Inquisition-— a  body  endowed  with  such  authority 
as  to  be  able  not  merely  to  proscribe  a  given  dogma, 


but  all  the  various  disguises  which  it  may  assume  ; 
and  to  suppress  the  very  germs  of  the  doctrines  by 
which  the  whole  of  a  creed  may  be  sapped  without 
ostensible  assaults   upon   its  specific  statements;  to 
silence,  not  only  the  conscious  heretic,  but  the  more 
dangerous  reasoner  who  is  unintentionally  furthering 
heretical   opinions;  to  extend  its  dominion  over  the 
whole  field  of  intellectual  activity,  and  so  stamp  out, 
not     this    or    that     objectionable     statement,     but 
those  changes  in  the  very  constituent  principles   of 
reasoning,  which,  if  they  occur,  bring  with  them  the 
necessity  of  correlative  changes  in  particular  opinions, 
and  which  can  only  be  hindered  from  occurring  by 
arresting  the  development  of  thought  itself.     When 
faith  in  the  supernatural  is  decaying,  it  is   idle    to 
enforce  internal  homage  to  this  or   that  idol.     The 
special  symptom  is   the    result    of  a   constitutional 
change  which  such  measures   have  no   tendency  to 
remedy.     How,  then,  is  an  administrative  machinery 
equal    to   such   purposes    to    be    contrived,   or    the 
necessary  force   supplied   for  its   effective  working? 
Obviously    it    implies    such    an   all-embracing  and 
penetrating  despotism  as  can  hardly  be  paralleled  in 
history ;   a  blind  spirit  of  loyalty  which  will  accept 
and  carry  out  the  decisions  of  the   political   rulers, 
and  that  in  the  face  of  the  various  influences  which, 
by  the  hypothesis,  are  bringing  about  an  intellectual 
change,  and  presumably  affecting  the  rulers  as  well 
as  their   subjects.     And  even  so  much  can  only   be 


272 


TOLERATION 


TOLERATION 


273 


reached  by  limiting  or  asphyxiating  the  intellectual 

progress,  with  all  which  it  implies.     The  argument, 

it  must  be  added,  applies  to  the  case  of  erroneous,  as 

well  as  of  sound,  opinions.     That  is  to  say,  it  is  in 

all  cases  idle   to   attack   the   error   unless  you   can 

remove  the  predisposing  cause.     I  may  hold,  as   in 

fact   I   do   hold,  that  what   is   called   the    religious 

reaction  of  recent  times  involves  the  growth  of  many 

fallacies,  and  that  it  is  far  more  superficial  than  is 

generally  asserted.     But,  whatever  its  origin,  it  has 

its  causes.     So  far  as  they  are  not  to  be   found  in 

the  purely  intellectual  sphere,  they  must  be  sought 

in  social  conditions,  or  in  the  existence   of  certain 

emotional  needs  not  yet  provided  for  by  the  newer 

philosophy.     To  try   to    suppress   such   movements 

forcibly— if  any  such  enterprise  could   be   seriously 

proposed— would   be    idiotic.     However    strong  our 

conviction  of  intellectual  error,  we  must  be  content 

to  have  error  as  long  as  we  have  fools.     For  folly, 

education   in   the  widest   sense   is   the  sole,  though 

singularly  imperfect,  remedy  ;  and  education  in  that 

sense  means  the  stimulation  of  all  kinds  of  intellectual 

energy.     The  other  causes  can  only  be  removed  by 

thorough  social  reforms,  and  the  fuller  elaboration  of 

a  satisfactory  philosophy.     Persecution,  were  such  a 

thing   really   conceivable,   could   at   most   drive   the 

mischief  to  take  other  forms,  and  would  remove  one 

of  the  most  potent  stimulants  to  the  more  satisfactory 

variety  of  regenerating  activity. 


I 


My  reply,  then,  to  the  question,  Why  do  you  not 
extirpate  poisonous  opinions  by  force  ?  is,  briefly,  the 
old    one— Because  I  object  to  quack  remedies  :  to 
remedies,  in  this  case,  which  can  at  most   secure  a 
negative  result  at  the  cost  of  arresting  the  patient's 
growth.     When  I  come  to  the  strictly  ethical  problem, 
Is  persecution  wicked  ?  and,  if  so,  why  ?  I  must  answer 
rather  more  fully.     All  that  I  have  said  is  a  simple 
expansion  of  familiar  and  obvious  arguments.     Not 
only  must  Mill,  whom  I  have  criticised  in  particular 
points,  have  recognised  all  the  alleged  evils  in  a  general 
way,  but  I  am  certain  that  others  less  favourable  to 
toleration  would  admit  them  in  any  given  case.     If 
that  is,  a  systematic  attack  upon  any  opinion,  or  upon 
general  freedom  of  thought,  were  proposed,  everyone 
would  admit  the  futility  of  a  partial  persecution,  and 
the  impossibility  of  an  effectual  one.     It  is  only  the 
form  into  which  the  general  argument  is  cast  that 
perplexes  the  general  theory.     It  is  so  plain  that  a 
special   utterance    may   be    stopped   by  a   sufficient 
penalty  ;  and,  again,  it  seems  so  easy  to  assume  that 
a  dogma   is   a  kind  of  entity  with  a  particular  and 
definable   set   of    consequences  adhering  to  it,  that 
reasoners  overlook  the  unreality  which  intrudes  in  the 
course  of  their  generalisations.     They  neglect  what, 
according  to  me,  is  an  essential  part  of  the  case— all 
the  secondary  implications,   that  is,  of  an  effectual 
persecution  ;  the  necessity  of  arresting  a  mental  p^kse 
as  well  as  a  particular  error,  and  of  altering  the  whole 


■  k^Vl    ■■»■ 


274 


TOLERATION 


TOLERATION 


275 


political  and  social  organisation  in  order  to  provide 
an  effectual  censorship.  If  these  necessities  are  more 
or  less  recognised,  they  are  thrust  out  of  the  argu- 
ment by  a  simple  device.  The  impossibility  of 
organising  an  effectual  persecution  now  is  admitted ; 
but  then  it  is  said  that  this  is  a  proof  of  modern 
effeminacy— sentimentalism,  or  anarchy,  or  some 
other  objectionable  peculiarity.  This  is  virtually  to 
say  that,  though  toleration  must  be  admitted  as  a 
transitional  phase,  it  implies  a  weakness,  not  strength, 
and,  in  brief,  that  the  advocate  of  persecution  would 
prefer  a  totally  different  social  state — namely,  such  a 
one  as  combines  all  the  requisites  for  an  adequate 
regulation  of  opinion.  Persecution  is  wrong,  here 
and  now,  for  you  and  me,  because  our  teeth  are  drawn, 
and  we  can  only  mumble  without  biting  ;  but  we  will 
hope  that  our  teeth  may  grow  again.  The  admission, 
in  whatever  terms  it  may  be  made,  is  perhaps  enough 
for  US.  Virtually  it  is  an  admission  that  persecution 
cannot  be  justified  unless  certain  conditions  are 
realised  which  are  not  now  realisable;  and  this 
admission  is  not  less  important  because  made  in 
terms  calculated  to  extenuate  the  importance  and  the 
permanence  of  these  conditions.  From  my  point  of 
view,  on  the  other  hand,  the  circumstances  thus 
treated  as  removable  and  trifling  accidents  are  really 
of  the  very  essence  of  the  case,  and  it  is  only  by  taking 
them  into  account  that  we  can  give  a  satisfactory 
theory  of  toleration.     Toleration  presupposes  a  certain 


stage  of  development,  moral  and  intellectual.     In  the 
ruder  social  order,  toleration  is  out  of  the  question  for 
familiar  reasons.     The  rudimentary  Church  and  State 
are  so  identified  that  the  kingly  power  has  the  spiritual 
sanctity,  and  the  priest  can  wield  the  secular  arm. 
Heresy  is  a  kind  of  rebelHon,  and  the  gods  cannot  be 
renounced  without  an  attack  upon  political  authority. 
Intellectual  activity  is  confined  to  a  small  class,  and 
opinions  change  by  an  imperceptible  and  unconscious 
process.     Wherever  such   a   condition  is  actually  in 
existence,  controversy  can  only  be  carried  on  by  the 
sword.     A  change  of  faith  is  not  caused  by  argument, 
but  is  part  of  the  process  by  which  a  more  powerful 
race    conquers   or   extirpates    its    neighbours.     The 
higher  belief  has  a  better  chance,  perhaps,  so  far  as 
it  is  characteristic  of  a  superior  race,  but  owes  little 
to  its  logical  or  philosophical  merits.     And,  in  such  a 
state  of  things,  toleration  is  hardly  to  be  called  a 
virtue,  because  it  is  an  impossibility.     If  the  equili- 
brium between  sects,  as  between  races,  depends  upon 
the  sword,  the  propagator  or  the  defender  of  the  faith 
must  use  the  sword  as  the  essential  condition  of  his 
success.     If   individuals   perceive   that   toleration  is 
desirable,   they   perceive   also  that   it   can   only   be 
achieved  through  an  elevation  of  the  whole  race  to  a 
higher  social  condition.     It  remains  as  an  unattain- 
able ideal,  dimly  foreshadowed  in  some  higher  minds. 
In  the  more  advanced  stage,  with  which  we  have 
to  do,  the   state  of  things  is  altered.     Church  and 


r  2 


Vw    '*■   ■»  ^   ^ 


■*-5r- 


276 


TOLERATION 


State  are  no  longer  identified ;  a  society  has  a  political 
apparatus  discharging  one  set  of  functions,  and  an 
ecclesiastical  apparatus  (or  more  than  one)  which 
discharges  another  set.  Some  such  distinction  exists 
as  a  plain  matter  of  fact.  There  remains,  indeed,  the 
perplexed  controversy  as  to  its  ultimate  nature,  and 
the  degree  in  which  it  can  be  maintained.  The  priest 
is  a  different  person  from  the  ruler,  and  each  indivi- 
dual is  governed  in  part  of  his  conduct  by  a  reference 
to  the  political  order,  and  in  other  parts  by  a  reference 
to  the  spiritual  order.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  urged, 
and,  indeed,  it  is  undeniable,  that  the  distinction  is 
not  a  complete  separation.  Every  spiritual  rule  has 
its  secular  aspect,  and  every  secular  rule  its  spiritual. 
Each  power  has  an  influence  over  the  whole  sphere  of 
conduct,  and  it  is  idle  to  draw  a  line  between  theory 
and  practice,  inasmuch  as  all  theory  affects  practice, 
and  all  practice  is  based  upon  theory.  How  are  the 
conflicting  claims  of  two  powers  to  be  reconciled,  when 
each  affects  the  whole  sphere  of  thought  and  conduct, 
without  making  one  absolutely  dependent  upon  the 

other  ? 

This  opens  a  wide  field  of  controversy,  upon  which 
I  must  touch  only  so  far  as  the  doctrine  of  toleration 
is  concerned.  How  are  we  to  reconcile  any  such 
doctrine  with  the  admission  that  the  State  must 
enforce  certain  kinds  of  conduct,  that  it  must  decide 
(unless  it  is  to  be  absolutely  dependent  upon  the 
Church,  or,  in  other  words,  unless  the  Church  is  itself 


TOLERATION 


277 


a  State)  what  kinds  of  conduct  it  will  enforce ;  and, 
therefore,  that  it  may  have  to  forbid  practices  com- 
mended by  the  Church,  or  to  punish  men,  indirectly 
at  least,  for  religious  opinions  -that  is,  to  persecute  ? 
We  may  argue  about  the  expediency  in  particular 
cases  ;  but  how  can  we  lay  down  a  general  principle  ? 
The  existence  of  any  society  whatever  clearly 
presupposes  an  agreement  to  obey  certain  elementary 
rules,  and  therefore  the  existence  of  a  certain  desire 
for  order  and  respect  for  constituted  authority. 
Every  society  also  contains  anti-social  elements,  and 
must  impose  penalties  upon  anti-social  conduct.  It 
can,  of  course,  deal  with  a  small  part  only  of  such 
conduct.  It  can  punish  murder,  but  not  ill-will. 
And,  further,  though  it  cannot  punish  all  immorality, 
it  may  punish  no  conduct  which  is  not  immoral. 
The  criminal  law  covers  only  a  part  of  the  field  of  the 
moral  law,  but  may  nowhere  extend  beyond  it.  The 
efficacy,  again,  of  all  State  action  depends  upon  the 
existence  of  the  organic  instincts  which  have  been 
evolved  in  its  growth.  Churches,  like  all  other  forms 
of  association,  depend  upon  the  existence  of  similar 
instincts  or  sentiments,  some  of  which  are  identical 
with  those  upon  which  the  State  is  also  founded, 
whilst  others  are  not  directly  related  to  any  parti- 
cular form  of  political  organisation.  Many  different 
Churches  may  arise,  corresponding  to  differences  of 
belief  upon  questions  of  the  highest  importance,  of 
which  the  members  may  yet  be  capable  of  uniting  for 


'**^- 


278 


TOLERATION 


TOLERATION 


279 


political  purposes,  and  of  membership  of  the  same 
State.  Agnostics,  Protestants,  and  Catholics  may 
agree  to  hang  murderers  and  enforce  contracts,  though 
they  go  to  different  Churches,  and  some  of  them  to 
no  Church  at  all ;  or  hold  the  most  contradictory 
opinions  about  the  universe  at  large.  The  possibility, 
within  some  undefined  limits,  is  proved  by  experi- 
ence ;  but  can  we  define  the  limits  or  deny  the  con- 
trary possibility  ?  May  not  a  Church  be  so  constituted 
that  membership  is  inconsistent  with  membership  of 
the  State  ?  If  a  creed  says  *  Steal,'  must  not  its 
adherents  go  to  prison  ?  If  so,  and  if  the  State  be 
the  sole  judge  on  such  points,  do  we  not  come  back 
to  persecution  ? 

I  reply,  first,  that  the  difficulty  is  in  one  way 
exaggerated,  and  in  a  way  which  greatly  affects  the 
argument.  Respect,  for  example,  for  human  life  or 
for  property  represents  different  manifestations  of 
that  essential  instinct  which  is  essential  to  all  social 
development.  Unless  murderers  and  thieves  were 
condemned  and  punished,  there  could  be  no  society, 
but  only  a  barbarous  chaos.  These  are  fundamental 
points  which  are  and  must  be  settled  before  the  pro- 
blem of  toleration  can  even  be  raised.  The  ethical 
sentiment  which  condemns  such  crimes  must  exist  in 
order  that  priests  and  policemen  may  exist.  It  is  not 
a  product,  but  a  precedent  condition,  of  their  activity. 
The  remark  is  needed  because  it  is  opposed  to  a 
common  set  of  theories  and  phrases.     Theologians  of 


one  class  are  given  to  assert  that  morality  is   the 
creation  of  a  certain  set  of  dogmas  which  have  some- 
how dropped  out  of  the  skies.     The  prejudice  against 
theft,  for  example,  is  due  to  the  belief,  itself  due  to 
revelation — that  is,  to  a  communication  from  without 
— that  thieves  will  have  their  portion  in  the  lake  of 
fire.     So  long  as  this  theory,  or  one  derived  from  it, 
holds  its  ground,  we  are  liable  to  the  assumption  that 
all  morality  is  dependent  upon  specific  beliefs  about 
facts  of  which  we  may  or  may  not  be  ignorant,  and 
has,  therefore,  something  essentially  arbitrary  about  it. 
It  is  a  natural  consequence  that  religion  may  change 
in  such  a  way  as  to  involve  a  reversal  of  the  moral 
law,  and  therefore  a  total  incompatibility  between  the 
demands  of  the  religion  and  the  most  essential  con- 
ditions of  social  life.     I  hold  that  this  represents  a 
complete  inversion  of  cause  and  effect ;  that  morality 
springs  simply  from  the  felt  need  of  human  beings 
living  in  society  ;  that  religious  beliefs  spring  from 
and  reflect  the  prevalent  moral  sentiment  instead  of 
producing  it  as  an  independent  cause ;  that  a  belief 
that  murderers  will  be  damned  is  the  effect,  and  not 
the  cause,  of  our   objection   to   murder.     There   is, 
doubtless,  an  intimate   connection   between   the   two 
beliefs.     In  the  intellectual  stage  at  which  hell  seems 
a  reasonable  hypothesis,  we  cannot  express  our  objec- 
tion to  murder  without  speaking  in  terms  of  hell-fire. 
But  the  hell  is  created  by  that  objection  when  present 
to  minds  at  a  certain  stage ;  and  not  a  doctrine  com- 


280 


TOLERATION 


municated  from  without  and  generating  the  objection. 
From  this  it  follows  that  the  religious  belief  which 
springs  from  the  moral  sentiments  (amongst  other 
conditions)  cannot,  as  a  rule,  be  in  conflict  with  them, 
or  with  the  corollaries  deduced  from  them  by  the 
legislator.  In  other  words,  agreement  between  the 
State  and  the  Church  as  to  a  very  wide  sphere  of 
conduct  must  be  the  rule,  because  the  sentiment  upon 
which  their  vitality  depends  springs  from  a  common 
root,  and  depends  upon  general  conditions,  independ- 
ent of  speical  beliefs  and  forms  of  government.  In 
spite  of  these  considerations,  the  difficulty  may  un- 
doubtedly occur.  A  religion  may  command  criminal 
practices,  and  even  practices  inconsistent  with  the 
very  existence  of  the  society.  Nihilists  and  Com- 
munists may  order  men  to  steal  or  slay.  Are  they  to 
be  permitted  to  attack  the  State  because  they  attack 
it  in  the  name  of  religion  ?  The  answer,  of  course, 
is  plain.  Criminals  must  be  punished,  whatever 
their  principle.  The  fact  that  a  god  commands  an 
action  does  not  make  it  moral.  There  are  very  im- 
moral gods  going  about,  whose  followers  must  be 
punished  for  obeying  their  orders.  Belief  in  his  gods 
is  no  excuse  for  the  criminal.  It  only  shows  that  his 
moral  ideas  are  confused.  If  the  god  has  no  better 
principles  than  a  receiver  of  stolen  goods,  his 
authority  gives  no  better  justification  for  the  act. 
The  punishment  does  not  violate  the  principle  that 
none  but  immoral  acts  should  be  punished,  unless  we 


I 


I 


TOLEKATION 


281 


regard  morality  as  a  mere  name  for  actions  com- 
manded by  invisible  beings.  Nor,  leaving  this  for 
the  moment,  is  this  properly  a  case  of  persecution. 
Toleration  implies  that  a  man  is  to  be  allowed  to 
profess  and  maintain  any  principles  that  he  pleases  ; 
not  that  he  should  be  allowed  in  all  cases  to  act  upon 
his  principles,  especially  to  act  upon  them  to  the 
injury  of  others.  No  limitation  whatever  need  be  put 
upon  this  principle  in  the  case  supposed.  I,  for  one, 
am  fully  prepared  to  listen  to  any  arguments  for  the 
propriety  of  theft  or  murder,  or,  if  it  be  possible,  of 
immorality  in  the  abstract.  No  doctrine,  however 
well  established,  should  be  protected  from  discussion. 
The  reasons  have  been  already  assigned.  If,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  any  appreciable  number  of  persons  is 
inclined  to  advocate  murder  on  principle,  I  should 
wish  them  to  state  their  opinions  openly  and  fear- 
lessly, because  I  should  think  that  the  shortest  way 
of  exploding  the  principle  and  of  ascertaining  the 
true  causes  of  such  a  perversion  of  moral  sentiment. 
Such  a  state  of  things  implies  the  existence  of  evils 
which  cannot  be  really  cured  till  their  cause  is  known, 
and  the  shortest  way  to  discover  the  cause  is  to  give 
a  hearing  to  the  alleged  reasons.  Of  course,  this 
may  lead  to  very  difficult  points  of  casuistry.  We 
cannot  always  draw  the  line  between  theory  and 
practice.  An  attack  upon  the  evils  of  landed  property 
delivered  in  a  certain  place  and  time  may  mean  — 
shoot  this  particular  landlord.    In  all  such  cases,  it 


282 


TOLERATION 


can  only  be  said  that  the  issue  is  one  of  fact.  It  is 
mo3t  desirable  that  the  principles  upon  which  property 
in  land  can  be  defended  should  be  thoroughly  dis- 
cussed. It  is  most  undesirable  that  any  landlord 
should  be  assassinated.  Whether  a  particular  speech 
is  really  a  part  of  the  general  discussion,  or  an  act  in 
furtherance  of  a  murderous  conspiracy,  is  a  question 
to  be  decided  by  the  evidence  in  the  case.  Sometimes 
it  may  be  almost  impossible  to  draw  the  line  ;  I  only 
m-ge  that  it  should  be  drawn  in  conformity  with  the 
general  rule.  The  propriety  of  every  law  should  be 
arguable;  but  whilst  it  is  the  law,  it  must  be  en- 
forced. 

This  brings  us  to  a  further  difficulty.     Who,  it  is 
asked,  is  to   decide   these  cases  ?      The   State  is  to 
punish  acts  which  are  inconsistent  with  its  existence 
or  immoral.    But  if  the  State  is  to  decide,  its  decision 
is    ultimate ;    and   it   may   decide,   for  example,   as 
Cromwell   decided,  that   the   Mass   was  an  immoral 
ceremony,  and  therefore  as  much  to  be  suppressed  as 
an  act  of  theft.     Simply  to  traverse  the  statement  of 
fact  would  be  insufficient.      If  we  merely  deny  the 
immorality  of  the  Mass,  we  say  that  Cromwell  was 
mistaken   in   his    facts,   not   that   his   conduct   was 
immoral  in  itself.      He  was  mistaken,  as   he  would 
have  been  mistaken  had  he  supposed  that  the  con- 
gregation was  collected  to   begin   a   political   rising, 
when  it  simply  came   together  for  a  religious  cere- 
monial.     The    objection   (if    we    may    fairly  judge 


TOLERATION 


283 


Cromwell  by  a  modern  standard,  which  need  not  be 
here  considered)  is  obviously  different.  It  assumes 
that  the  suppression  of  the  Mass  was  an  act  done  in 
restraint  of  opinion.  Nobody  alleged  that  the  Mass 
had  any  other  ill-consequences  than  its  tendency  to 
encourage  the  spread  of  a  religion.  A  simple  act  of 
idolatry  is  not  of  itself  injurious  to  my  neighbour. 
I  am  not  injured  because  you,  being  a  fool,  do  an  act 
of  folly  which  is  nothing  but  an  open  avowal  of  your 
folly.  The  intention  of  the  persecutor  was  to  restrain 
the  spread  of  an  opinion  by  terror  ;  and  just  so  far 
as  that  was  the  intention  it  was  an  act  of  intolerance. 
It  is  easy  to  put  different  cases.  If,  for  example,  a 
creed  commanded  human  sacrifices,  it  might  be 
right  to  suppress  an  anti-social  practice.  The  murder 
would  not  be  justified  because  of  the  invisible  accom- 
plice, though  he  were  called  a  god.  The  action  should 
therefore  be  punished,  though  we  ought  not  to  punish 
the  promulgation  of  an  argument  in  favour  of  the 
practice,  nor  to  punish  other  harmless  practices  dic- 
tated by  the  same  creed.  But  in  the  case  of  the  Mass 
the  conduct  would  be  admittedly  harmless  in  every 
other  respect  than  in  its  supposed  effect  upon  opinion. 
The  bare  act  of  eating  a  wafer  with  certain  ceremonies 
only  became  punishable  because  the  actor  attached 
to  it,  and  encouraged  others  to  attach  to  it,  a  par- 
ticular religious  significance.  Eestraint  of  opinion, 
or  of  its  free  utterance,  by  terror  is  the  essence  of 
persecution,  and  all  conduct  intended  to  achieve  that 


284 


TOLEKATION 


purpose  is  immoral.  The  principle  is  entirely  con- 
sistent with  the  admission  that  a  legislator  must 
decide  for  himself  whether  or  not  that  is  the  real 
tendency  of  his  legislation.  There  is  no  appeal  from 
the  Legislature,  and  therefore  it  must  decide  in  the 
last  resort.  But  it  does  not  follow  that  a  court  from 
which  there  is  no  appeal  follows  no  rules  in  fact,  nor 
that  all  its  decisions  are  morally  right.  In  laying 
down  such  a  principle,  or  any  other  first  principle, 
we  are  not  proposing  a  rule  which  can  be  enforced  by 
any  external  authority.  It  belongs  to  a  sphere  which 
is  antecedent  to  all  legislation.  We  say  simply  that 
a  legislator  will  accept  it  so  far  as  he  legislates  upon 
sound  principles.  Nor  is  it  asserted  that  the  princi- 
ple is  always  free  from  ambiguity  in  its  applications. 
Granting  that  persecution  is  wrong,  it  may  still  be  a  fair 
question  whether  this  or  that  law  implies  persecution. 
There  may  be  irreconcilable  differences  of  opinion. 
The  legislator  may  declare  that  a  particular  kind  of 
conduct  is  immoral,  or,  in  other  words,  that  the 
practice  is  irreconcilable  with  the  essential  conditions 
of  social  welfare.  The  priest  may  assert  that  it  is 
commanded  by  his  deity,  and,  moreover,  that  it  is 
really  moral  in  the  same  sense  in  which  the  legislator 
declares  it  to  be  immoral.  Who  is  to  decide? 
The  principle  of  toleration  does  not  of  itself  answer 
that  question.  It  only  lays  down  certain  conditions 
for  conducting  the  argument.  It  decides  that  the 
immorality  must  consist  in  something  else  than  the 


TOLERATION 


285 


evil  tendency  of  any  general  doctrine.     A  man  must 
not   be  punished  for  openly  avowing  any  principles 
whatever.     Any  defence  of  the  proposed  rule  is  ir- 
relevant unless  it   contains   an  allegation  that  the 
punishment   is  inflicted   for   something  else  than  a 
defence  of  opinion.     And,  further,  if  agreement  be 
still  impossible,  the  principle  does  not  say  who  is  to 
give  the  decision  ;  it  only  lays  down  a  condition  as  to 
the   mode   of  obtaining   the    decision.     In   the  last 
resort,  we  may  say,  the  question  must  be  fought  out, 
but  it  must  be  fought  out  with  fair  weapons.     The 
statesman,  so  long  as  he  is  seriously  convinced,  must 
uphold  the  law,  but   he   must   allow  its  policy   and 
justice  to  be  freely  discussed.     No  statement  can  be 
made  as  to  the  result.     The  statesman  appeals  directly 
to  one  class  of  motives;    the  priest  to   others,  not 
identical,  though  not  disparate.     The  ultimate  success 
of  one  or  the  other  will  depend  upon  the  constitution  of 
the  society,  and  the  strength  of  all  the  various  forces 
by  which    authority    is    supported    and    balanced. 
Toleration   only  orders   fair   play,   and  implies   the 
existence  of  conditions  necessary  for  securing  a  possi- 
bility of  ultimate  agreement.      The  relevant  issues 
are  defined,  though  the  question  of  fact  remains  for 
discussion.     Even  where   brute   force  has  the  most 
unrestricted  play,  and  rule  is  most   decidedly  based 
upon  sheer  terror,  all  power  ultimately  rests  upon  the 
beliefs  and  sentiments  of  the  society.     The  advantage 
of  toleration  is  to  exclude  that  kind  of  coercion  which 


286 


TOLERATION 


tries  to  restrain  opinion  by  sheer  terror,  and  therefore 
by  considerations  plainly  irrelevant  to  the  truth  of 
the  opinions. 


n. — Growth  of  Beliefs 

I  have  thus  argued  that  all  legal  restraint  of 
opinion  is  wrong;  and  wrong  because  it  tends  to 
enervate  the  vital  principle  of  intellectual  develop- 
ment. In  doing  so,  I  have  partly  indicated  the 
method  in  which  I  should  attempt  to  approach  a 
more  general  problem :  How,  in  point  of  fact,  are 
opinions  constructed  ?  When  we  try  to  form  a  clear 
conception  of  social  dynamics,  we  are  naturally  led 
to  ask  what  is  the  true  theory  of  the  intellectual 
factor.  We  possess  philosophies  of  history  and  re- 
ligion in  abundance  ;  and  I  think  that  it  is  generally 
impossible  to  read  them  without  a  strange  sense  of 
unreality.  They  may  show  infinite  ingenuity  and 
great  plausibility,  but  they  become  unsatisfactory 
when  we  try  to  translate  them  into  facts,  and  bring 
them  face  to  face  with  history.  When  we  try  to  give 
a  theory  of  history,  we  are  naturally  tempted  to 
convert  history  into  a  theory;  and,  therefore,  to 
represent  it  as  a  purely  logical  process.  The  suc- 
cessive stages  correspond  to  deductions  from  first 
principles  ;  and  the  whole  process  becomes  an  *  evolu- 
tion '  in  the  purely  logical,  as  distinguished  from  the 
empirical,  sense ;  the  explication  of  a  dogma,  not  the 


TOLERATION 


287 


elaboration  of  an  institution.  The  race,  we  suppose, 
lays  down  a  major  premiss  in  one  century,  supplies 
the  minor  in  a  second,  and  in  a  third  draws  the 
inference.  This  conception  is  the  natural  heir  to  the 
theological  doctrine  of  a  revelation.  The  history  of 
a  religion  traces  back  all  later  developments  to  certain 
first  principles  which  were  introduced  into  the  world 
from  without.  A  Divine  Being  presented  us  with  a 
set  of  axioms  and  definitions,  and  we,  still,  perhaps, 
under  Divine  guidance,  have  drawn  from  them  a  series 
of  propositions  and  corollaries  which  constitute  the 
orthodox  system  of  dogma,  as  the  deductions  of 
Euclid  constitute  a  system  of  geometry.  On  this 
showing,  the  revelation  of  the  axioms,  whether  they 
announce  themselves  as  *  innate  ideas '  or  are  injected 
by  some  miraculous  process,  is  the  starting-point  of 
the  religion.  We  must,  of  course,  recur  to  empirical 
observation  in  order  to  describe  the  actual  process 
of  their  acceptance,  diffusion,  and  development.  But 
we  never  get  further  back  than  the  promulgation  of 
the  primary  truths.  By  faith,  that  is,  by  assimilating 
these  truths,  men  accept  the  religion,  and  the  religion 
shapes  all  their  lives,  thoughts,  and  actions.  On  this 
showing,  then,  the  purely  intellectual  factor  is,  if  not 
the  sole,  the  sole  original  and  independent  force.  A 
history  of  religion  is  a  history  of  the  development  of 
the  primitive  beliefs,  or  of  the  errors  by  which  they 
have  been  obscured  ;  but  those  beliefs  themselves  are 
an  ultimate  cause,  and,  as  such,  incapable  of  further 


'kl 

f 


288 


TOLERATION 


explanation.     We  have  traced  the  river  to  its  source, 
or  to  its  first  emergence  in  the  world  of  fact.     Even 
disbelievers   in   a  particular   religion  often  continue 
to  make  this  assumption.     The  founder  of  the  new 
creed  is  regarded  as  its  ultimate  creator.     We  trace 
Mahomedanism  back  to   Mahomet,  and  no   further. 
Had  Mahomet  died  before  he  had  written  the  Koran, 
the  whole  history  of  the  world,  in  the  accepted  phrase, 
would  have  been  different.     To  the  true  believer,  he 
was   the   channel  through  which  came  a  revelation 
from  the  outside  ;  to  outsiders,  he  is  still  the  ultimate 
source  of   the   new  doctrine,  and   of   all   the  effects 
attributed  to  it.     Without  discussing  these  assump- 
tions in  the  abstract,  I  will  say  something  of  the  facts 
which,  to  me,  seem  to  necessitate  a  reconstruction  of 
the  theory. 

We  have  lately  been   led  to  look  back  to  the 
primitive  ages  for  the  explanation  of  all  institutions. 
A   savage   has   a    certain   system   of   '  beliefs '   and 
customs.     He  does  not  distinguish  between  his  philo- 
sophical, his  religious,  his  political,  and  his  ethical 
beliefs ;  they  exist  in  him,  so  far  as  they  exist,  only 
in  germ,  and  they  take  the  form  of  an  acceptance  of 
certain  concrete  facts.     He  believes  in  the  god  of  his 
tribe  as  he  believes  in  the  chief  whom  he  follows,  or 
in  the  enemy  whom  he  fights.     He  adheres  to  certain 
customs  by  instinct,  and  it  would  be  as  idle  to  ask 
him  why  he  observes  them,  as  to  ask  him  why  he  eats 
or  drinks,  or  to  ask  a  bird  why  it  builds  nests.     An 


TOLERATION 


289 


instinct— even  the    instinct    of    an    animal  -  is    of 
course    *  reasonable '    in    the    sense    that    we    can 
ascertain  the  rules  according  to  which  it  acts,  and 
explain  them  by  the  conditions  of  its  existence.     It 
only  becomes  reason,  in  the  full  sense,  when  reflection 
makes  the  agent  himself  conscious  of  the  rule  already 
implicitly  given,  and  of  the  place  which  it  holds  in 
his  constitution  and  in  his  system  of  life.     But  until 
reflection  is  possible,  and  is,  to  some  extent,  system- 
atised,  the  instinct  is  an  ultimate  fact  for  the  agent ; 
no  explanation  or  justification  is  demanded,  or  even 
conceived  as  possible.      Such  development,  then,  as 
takes  place  must  take  place,  not  by  any  conscious 
reasoning,  but,  as  I  have  said,  by  natural  selection. 
A  superior  creed  must   generally  accompany  higher 
intelligence  and  a  better  organisation  of  society.     The 
religion  is  an  indistinguishable  part  of  the  instincts 
which   hold   a    tribe    together    and    determine    its 
efficiency.       The   savage  does    not   argue   with   his 
enemy,  but  knocks  him  on  the  head.     But  the  tribe 
which  has  the  best  brains  and  the  most  appropriate 
instincts  will   generally  exterminate   its  antagonists. 
Whatever  the  precise  relation  between  the  primitive 
creed  and  the  instincts  in  which  it  is  embedded,  the 
creed  which  conduces  to,  or  which  is  generated  by, 
supreme  qualities  will  tend  to  prevail.     The  men  of 
the  flint   weapons   were  not  converted  by  the   wor- 
shippers of  Odin,  but  their  creed,  whatever  it  may 
have  been,  was  effectually  suppressed.     Again,  if  one 

u 


290 


TOLEBATION 


savage  creed  contains  more  truth  than  another,  we 
may  suppose  that  it  is  so  far  the  better.  There  must 
to  every  period  be  a  certain  conformity  between  the 
beliefs  of  a  race  and  the  facts  asserted,  or  the  race 
would  disappear.  Science,  even  in  its  germ,  must 
approximately  state  facts.  The  lowest  savage  must 
believe  that  fire  burns  and  water  drowns.  But  this 
test  of  truthfulness  is  not  so  easily  applied  to  the 
beliefs  in  which  we  find  the  germ  of  later  ethics,  or 
which  animate  the  collective  action  of  the  tribe.  The 
power  of  united  action,  the  primitive  public  spirit  of 
a  tribe,  must  be  of  primary  importance.  But  this  is 
recognised  in  the  savage  dialect  by  help  of  grotesque 
hypotheses.  A  group  of  savages  believes  that  it  is 
descended  from  a  mythical  animal,  or  that  the  ghost  of 
its  great-grandfather  looks  after  its  common  interests. 
The  theory,  taken  as  a  statement  of  fact,  is  absurd  ; 
but,  in  its  name,  the  tribe  may  destroy  the  less  intelli- 
gent savages  who  are  not  drilled,  even  by  a  ghost. 
Such  a  belief  indicates  qualities  of  the  highest  utility ; 
but  is,  one  must  suppose,  a  symptom,  not  a  cause,  of 
the  useful  qualities.  It  corresponds  to  the  only  way 
in  which  a  truth  could  be  dimly  apprehended  by  the 
savage.  It  is  the  projection  upon  the  imaginary 
world  of  a  sentiment,  not  of  a  perception  of  fact- 
*  Union  among  kinsmen  is  useful '  would  be  the 
ultimate  formula,  which  could  only  present  itself  by 
the  fancy :  *  you  and  I  must  not  kill  each  other, 
because  we  are  connected  by  an  imaginary  Totem,' 


TOLEEATION 


291 


In  other  words,  social  relations  of  the  highest  utility 
give  rise  to  mythological  fancies,  which,  as  reflection 
awakens,  are  put  forward  as  the  reasons  or  '  sanctions ' 
of  the  practices.  The  practice  prevailed  because  it 
was  useful,  not  because  it  was  seen  to  be  useful ;  that 
is,  because  the  race  which  had  that  instinct  was 
successful  in  the  struggle  for  existence ;  although 
the  perception  of  its  utility  was  not  even  dimly 
present  to  the  savage  mind  ;  and,  when  a  justification 
was  required,  the  embodiment  in  symbols  of  the 
belief  was  given  as  the  cause  of  the  belief  itself. 

How  far  is  the  case  altered  when  we  advance  to 
comparatively  civilised  races  ?  Do  we  ever  reach  a 
stage  in  which  reason  is  substituted  for  instinct  ?  In 
what  sense  is  reason  specifically  distinct  from  in- 
stinct ?  A  germ  of  reason  is  already  present  in  in- 
stinct, and  to  become  rational  is  never  to  suppress, 
but  to  rationalise,  instinct.  We  still  start  from  beliefs 
which  are  also  instincts,  but  they  are  instincts  which 
have  been  verified  by  observation.  The  reasoned  belief 
is  still  propagated  by  identical  methods.  If  the  doc- 
trine of  the  '  survival  of  the  fittest '  be  true  nowhere  else, 
it  seems  certainly  to  be  true  of  intellectual  develop- 
ment. The  world  of  thought  grows  by  the  develop- 
ment of  countless  hypotheses,  among  which  those 
which  are  useless  die  out,  and  those  which  are  useful, 
because  they  correspond  to  fruitful  combinations  of 
thought,  become  fixed,  and  serve  as  the  nucleus  of 
more  complex  constructions.     We  call  men  reasonable 

u  2 


292 


TOLERATION 


SO  far  as  their  beliefs  are  formed  by  some  conscious 
logical  process  ;  by  a  deliberate  attempt  to  frame  and 
to  verify  general  rules  as  to  phenomena  of  all  kinds, 
and  which  can,  therefore,  be  propagated  by  argument 
or  persuasion  as  well  as  by  the  more  roundabout 
method  which  depends  upon  the  survival  of  the  most 
intelligent  races.  When  people  have  sat  at  the  feet  of 
philosophers  and  filled  libraries  with  argumentative 
treatises  pure  reasoning  has  some  influence.  And 
yet  it  is  still  only  a  part,  and  a  subordinate  part,  of 
the  process  by  which  creeds  are  elaborated.  For,  in 
the  first  place,  the  intellect  of  the  millions  is  altogether 
indifferent  to  the  logic  of  the  dogmatists,  and  ignorant 
of  the  data  to  which  the  logic  is  applied.  It  must 
take  its  beliefs  for  granted,  and  is  so  far  from  asking 
how  they  are  proved  that  it  does  not  see  that  proof  is 
required.  There  are  two  or  three  hundred  millions  of 
human  beings  in  our  Indian  Empire,  and  perhaps  not 
as  many  hundreds  who  could,  in  the  old  phrase,  give  a 
reason  for  their  belief,  except  the  fact  that  their  fathers 
believed.  There  are  six  hundred  and  seventy  members 
of  Parliament,  of  whom  we  may  certainly  doubt  whether 
the  odd  seventy  have  ever  reasoned,  or  could  really 
reason,  about  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  Christi- 
anity. If,  again,  we  take  the  few  who  have  some 
sort  of  reasoned  persuasion,  we  know  as  a  fact  that 
a  man  generally  accepts  Catholicism  or  Protes- 
tantism much  as  he  accepts  the  shape  of  his  hat, 
from  the  conditions  under  which  he  has  been  brought 


TOLERATION 


293 


up ;  that  even  if  he  reasons,  he  generally  seeks  for 
reasons  to  support  his  creed,   instead   of   finding  a 
creed  to  suit  his  reason  ;  and  that,  in  any  case,  he 
necessarily  starts  with  an  established  set  of  opinions, 
which  he  may  gradually  modify,  but  which,  even  in 
the  keenest  and  most  candid  minds,  are  still  traceable 
as  transformed,  rather  than  replaced,  in  his  latest  con- 
victions.    And  then,  finally,  it  is  clear  that  in  any 
case  his  reason  is  but  one  factor  in  his  total  system  of 
beliefs.     His  opinions  are  necessarily  influenced   by 
his   whole  character,   his  emotional   and  active,   as 
well  as  by  his  intellectual,  nature,  and,  moreover,  by 
his  social  position.     As   holding  a   religion,   he  be- 
longs to  a  Church.     A  Church  is  a  social  organisation 
which  supposes  a  certain  corporate  spirit  no   more 
to  be  fully  expressed  by  its  dogmas  than  the  patriot- 
ism of  an  Englishman  by  the  beliefs  which  he  holds 
about   the  characteristics  of  his  nation  or  the  pecu- 
liarities of  its  political  constitution.     The  Church  is 
invested  with  historical  associations  ;  it  has  provided 
channels  for  our  thoughts,  activities,  and  emotions  ;  it 
supplies  the  intellect  with  ready-made  beliefs,  tacitly 
instilled   in   infancy  ;    it   has   established   forms   of 
worship  which  fascinate   the   imagination   and   pro- 
vide utterance  for  the  emotions  ;  it  presents  an  ideal 
of  life ;  it  has  in  its  system  of  discipline  a  powerful 
machinery  for  regulating  the  passions  ;  and  it  is  more 
or  less  elaborately  organised  with  a  view  to  discharg- 
ing a  variety  of  important  social  functions.     The  vast 


294 


TOLERATION 


majority  of  its  members  take  its  beliefs  on  trust,  and, 
of  those  who  examine,  a  large  proportion  only  exa- 
mine in  order  to  be  convinced.  We  may,  therefore, 
safely  assume  that,  although  a  religion  supposes  cer- 
tain beliefs  in  its  adherents,  we  have  gone  but  a 
little  way  to  explain  the  whole  complex  phenomenon 
when  we  have  formulated  the  beliefs  and  stated  the 
reasons  upon  which  they  are  founded.  They  are,  for 
the  enormous  majority,  mere  expressions  of  belief  still 
in  the  stage  of  instinct;  and  so  far  as  they  imply 
genuine  reasoning,  they  correspond  to  a  modification 
of  a  previously-existing  creed,  slowly  developed,  and 
worked  into  conformity  with  philosophical  doctrines 
by  a  gradual  and  often  imperceptible  process.  A 
genuine  historian  of  religion  would,  therefore,  still 
have  to  regard  the  whole  record  as  an  enlarged 
process  of  natural  selection.  The  Church  and  the 
creed  thrive  by  reason  of  their  adaptation  to  the  whole 
of  human  nature  and  the  needs  of  the  society  in 
which  they  are  planted ;  and  the  purely  intellectual 
process  is  merely  one  factor,  which  we  may,  indeed, 
consider  apart,  but  which  is  in  reality  a  subordinate 
factor  in  the  concrete  history.  It  must,  of  course, 
be  a  source  of  weakness  if  a  religion  includes  incredible 
statements,  or  its  theories  represent  deficient  moral 
and  social  ideals.  That  is,  the  intellectual  state  has 
an  influence  upon  the  vitality  of  the  religion,  but  it  is 
through  that  influence,  and  not  by  an  explicit  reason- 
ing process,  that  it  really  acts.     We  still  have  to  deal 


TOLERATION 


295 


with  a  survival  of  the  fittest,  and  the  *  fitness  '  includes 
much  besides  logic. 

Indeed,  it  is  only  necessary  to  lay  stress  upon  this 
because  the  obvious  facts  seem  to  have  been  so  often 
ignored  by  theories  not  yet  quite  obsolete.  The 
Protestant  writers  upon  the  *  evidences,'  for  example, 
very  properly  held  that  they  were  bound  to  prove  the 
propositions  which  they  asked  others  to  believe.  But 
their  method  of  reasoning  showed  that  they  not  only 
supposed  themselves  capable  of  giving  a  proof,  but 
thought  that  everybody  else  had  followed  the  same 
method.  They  held  that  the  Evangelists  were  not 
merely  recording  the  beliefs  of  their  day,  but  giving 
evidence  like  witnesses  in  a  court  of  justice.  They 
imagined  that  St.  Paul  had  convinced  himself  of  the 
truth  of  the  Resurrection  by  a  method  of  inquiry 
which  would  have  passed  muster  in  an  English 
criminal  trial.  They  held,  therefore,  that  a  state- 
ment of  a  miracle  proved  the  fact,  instead  of  proving 
the  credulity  of  the  witness.  They  could  see  the 
fallacy  of  such  an  argument  when  applied,  say,  to  the 
deification  of  the  Virgin  Mary ;  but  when  the  tradi- 
tional view  had  been  put  in  writing  a  little  earlier,  it 
became  a  *  proof  '  of  the  divinity  of  Christ.  Therefore 
the  whole  proof  of  their  religion  and,  as  they  often 
held,  the  proof  of  facts  upon  which  even  morality  was 
dependent,  came  to  be  the  truth  of  certain  statements 
which  really  prove  only  the  mental  condition  of  the 
writers.     Such  a  conception  of  a  rational  religion  is  a 


296 


TOLERATION 


curious  proof  of  the  unreality  of  the  whole  way  of 

regarding  the   question.     The   pyramid   is   balanced 

upon  its  apex.     The  truth   of  Christianity,  with  all 

that  it  is  supposed  to  involve,  including  all  genuine 

morality,  was  made  to  rest  upon  the   possibility    of 

proving  that  certain  events  took  place  two  thousand 

years    ago.      The    position    was     indefensible,     but 

scarcely  more  gi'otesque  than  the  implied  conception 

that   a   religion   is,   in   fact,    propagated    after  this 

fashion :    that  apostles  go  about  proving  things   by 

*  evidence '  ;  that  miracles   are   the    cause,  and  not 

the   consequence,  of  a  vast  moral  and  social  crisis  ; 

and,  in  brief,  that  any  religion  which  wants  facts  to 

support  it  will  have  the  slightest  difficulty  in  making 

any  evidence  that  is  desirable  for  the  purpose.     Yet 

it  is  hardly  more  impossible  to  suppose  that  a  religion 

is   a  product  of  *  evidence '  in  the  technical,  juristic 

sense  than  to  suppose  that  it  is  a  product  of  conscious 

philosophy.     The  grave  humorists,  indeed,  who  call 

themselves   historians  of   philosophy  seem  to  be  at 

times  under  the  impression  that  the  development  of 

the  world  has  been  affected  by  the  last  new  feat  of 

some  great  man  in  the  art  of  logical  hair-splitting. 

They  imagine  that  the  true  impulse  to  the  greatest 

changes  of  thought  and  character  is  to  be  sought  in 

the  metaphysical  lectures  which  supply  new  puzzles 

for  half  a  dozen  eccentric  recluses.     To  me,  though  I 

cannot   argue  the  point,  it  seems  clear  that  what  a 

philosopher  does — and  it  is  quite  enough — is  not  to 


TOLERATION 


297 


govern  speculation,  but  to  codify  and  bring  into 
clearer  light  the  principles  already  involved  in  the 
speculations  of  the  more  concrete  sciences.  But,  in 
any  case,  the  problem  occurs  how  the  promulgation 
of  a  philosophical  doctrine,  especially  if  it  is  of  an 
intuitive  or  self-evident  truth,  comes  to  produce  the 
gigantic  influence  attributed  to  a  new  religion.  We 
must  surely  consider,  not  simply  the  doctrine,  true  or 
false,  but  the  moral  state  of  the  recipients.  Even  in 
such  a  case  as  pure  mathematics,  where  the  progress 
is  a  simple  question  of  reasoning,  we  can  only  account 
for  the  historical  phenomenon,  for  the  development 
of  mathematical  knowledge  at  certain  periods,  and 
for  its  absolutely  stationary  condition  at  others,  by 
assigning  the  conditions  which  lead  to  a  study  of 
mathematics.  But  in  the  case  of  a  philosophical 
theory  this  necessity  is  more  obvious.  If  the  truth  of 
monotheism  be  self-evident,  and  if  upon  any  theory 
it  is  a  doctrine  dependent  on  the  simplest  grounds, 
and  resting  upon  arguments  familiar  to  the  earliest 
speculator,  why  should  its  enunciation  at  a  par- 
ticular period  suddenly  transform  the  world  ?  A 
syllogism,  or  a  *  self-evident  truth,'  is  not  a  thing 
walking  about  on  two  legs,  which  suddenly  catches 
hold  of  people  and  converts  them.  The  more  evident 
the  truth,  the  more  difficult  to  understand  its  efficacy 
at  a  particular  conjuncture.  The  truth  was  always 
there,  and  the  secret  must  lie  in  the  variable,  not  in  the 
constant,  factor.  It  is  a  favourite  view  of  many  people 


298 


TOLERATION 


that  the  essence  of  the  Christian  revelation  consisted  in 
the  promulgation  of  its  ethical  teaching.  I,  of  course, 
have  no  doubt  that  the  moral  ideal  implied  in  the 
Christian  teaching  played  a  great  part  in  the  growth 
of  the  new  religion.  But  I  do  not  think,  nor  would 
it,  I  suppose,  be  even  the  orthodox  view,  that  the 
secret  lay  in  the  propounding  of  a  new  (so  far  as  it 
was  a  new)  thesis  in  ethical  philosophy.  On  this 
showing,  the  sudden  revelation  of  the  truth  that  a 
man  should  love  his  neighbour  as  himself  brought 
about  the  revolution.  Why  should  people  who  did  not 
love  their  neighbours  already  be  so  much  attracted  ?  or, 
if  they  loved  them  already,  why  should  they  be  startled 
as  by  a  novelty  ?  The  morality  of  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  has  been  universally  admired,  but  it  is  so  far  from 
having  been  generally  accepted,  that  to  take  it  literally 
even  now  would  be  to  adopt  a  position  of  eccentric 
originality ;  and  it  may  be  doubted  whether  the  whole 
progress  of  the  race  has  not  depended  upon  the  limi- 
tation of  this  by  other  moral  principles,  and  whether 
its  full  acceptance  would  not  have  meant  a  destruction 
of  social  order  and  welfare.  But,  in  any  case,  it  was 
not  as  a  simple  proposition  in  ethics,  but  as  part 
of  a  system  of  teaching,  that  it  really  impressed  the 
imagination  of  the  new  Church.  The  morality  was 
one  aspect  of  an  ideal  of  life  which,  for  some  reason, 
became  widely  spread  at  that  period,  and  has  had  a 
wide  influence  ever  since. 

What,  then,  was  the  reason  ?    The  answer  which, 


TOLERATION 


299 


I  suppose,  everyone  would  now  admit  in  some  form  or 
other,  would  be,  in  the  first  place,  that  it  was  not  the 
proof  of  miracles,  nor  the  enunciation  of  new  dogmas, 
but  the  development  of  that  spirit  which  has  been  called 
the  *  enthusiasm  of  humanity,'  the  widely-spread  and 
powerful  desire  for  a  reconstruction  of  society  and  a 
regeneration  of  the  individual.  To  the  believer  in 
supernatural  interferences,  this  presents  itself  as  the 
sudden  infusion  of  a  new  spiritual  force ;  and  so  far 
as  he  argues  against  the  inadequacy  of  the  doctrines 
invented  by  evidence  writers  and  abstract  philosophers, 
I  should  think  that  he  has  a  strong  case.  But  the 
conditions  of  such  a  development  must,  even  by  him, 
be  sought  in  the  *  environment  *  as  well  as  in  the  new 
creed.  We  can  only  explain  the  spread  of  the 
organism  by  showing  how  and  why  the  soil  was 
congenial.  The  Christian  doctrine  obviously  spread, 
as  every  doctrine  spreads,  just  so  far  as  it  was 
adapted  to  men  at  a  given  stage.  If,  therefore,  it  spread 
through  a  certain  section  of  the  human  race,  and 
never  spread  further,  the  circumstances  of  that  section 
must  be  relevant  to  the  explanation.  Nor  can  there 
be  any  doubt  of  the  direction  in  which  explanation 
must  be  sought,  though  there  is  ample  room  for  the 
most  elaborate  researches  before  we  can  put  any 
explanation  into  a  definitive  shape.  The  explanation, 
in  fact,  must  include  nothing  less  than  an  analysis  of 
the  vast  religious,  social,  and  political  changes  which 
were  fermenting    throughout   the    Boman    Empire. 


300 


TOLERATION 


The    destruction    of    the    old    national    systems   of 
government,  and  of  the  creeds  with  which  they  were 
bound  up,  the  mixture  and  transfusion  of   various 
races  and  institutions,  the  growth  of  a  vast  population 
which  could  not  find  satisfaction  within  the  old  social 
framework,  form,  of  course,  essential  data  for  any 
comprehension  of  the  greatest  revolution  which  ever 
transformed   the   world.     Amidst    the    struggle    for 
existence  of  various  modes  of  thought,  the  Christian 
doctrme  formed  in  some  sense  the  centre  round  which 
the  chaotic  elements  ultimately  crystallised   into  a 
certain  unity.     No  one,  I  presume,  would  undertake 
to  say  confidently  how  much  was  due  in  the  final  result 
to  the  personal  character  of  the  founders  of  the  creed, 
and  how  much  to  the  countless  multitudes  who  found 
in  it  what  they  wanted.     We  cannot  try  experiments 
on  such  points,  nor  say  what  would  have  been  the 
prevalent  form  of  religion,  had  St.  Paul,  for  example, 
been  killed  before  he  was  converted.    The  tendency  of 
scientific  thinkers,  I  take  it,  will  be  to  attribute  less 
to  the   single   voice   which   uttered   the  appropriate 
solution,  and  more  to  the  millions  who  were  ready  for 
a  solution,  and  were  certain  ultimately  to  find  one  to 
suit  them.     When  the  passions  are  roused,  the  man 
will   come  who  sets  them   to  a  tune.      Given  the 
ferment,   a  crystallisation    upon    some   point    is    a 
practical  certainty.     We  may  infer  what  was  required 
for  success  from  what  ultimately  succeeded.     The 
demand  was  for  a  Kingdom  of  Heaven— that  is,  for  a 


TOLERATION 


301 


new  society,  apart  from  all  the  rotting  fabrics  which 
had  served  their  time ;  cosmopolitan  instead  of 
national,  with  hopes  fixed  upon  another  world,  since 
this  world  appeared  to  be  hopeless,  with  the  assertion 
of  a  brotherhood  of  the  suffering  poor  throughout  the 
nations,  and  with  a  prophecy  of  a  good  time  for  the 
saints  when  their  tyrants  would  be  cast  into  the  lake 
of  fire.  How  that  society  was  formed  and  grew,  and 
was  in  time  fused  with  the  order  against  which  it 
protested,  is  the  greatest  of  themes  for  a  philosophical 
historian.  The  scarcity  of  facts  will  give  him  an  ample 
field  for  imaginative  construction.  But  we,  at  least, 
are  in  a  position,  at  the  present  time,  to  appreciate  the 
general  nature  of  the  position.  Looking  on,  daily, 
hopefully  or  doubtfully,  at  the  growth  of  a  new 
social  creed,  which  is  rejecting  the  outworn  and  as- 
similating the  living  elements  of  the  old,  we  can 
surely  not  be  amazed  at  the  parallel  phenomenon  of 
the  development  of  a  new  society,  though  at  a  time 
when  possibilities  of  aspirations  were  very  unlike 
those  now  existing,  and  the  dialect  which  men  had  to 
use  involved  a  very  different  terminology.  Certainly 
we  can  be  at  no  loss  to  understand  why  the  new  creed 
had  to  include  an  element  representative  of  ignorance 
and  superstition.  What,  then,  was  the  influence  of 
the  purely  intellectual  factor  in  this  complex  revo- 
lution ?  We  see  a  vast  struggle  of  philosophies  and 
religions,  and  a  confused  hubbub  of  controversy,  dead 
long  ago,  and  buried  in  the  stately  mausoleums  of 


302 


TOLEEATION 


official  dogma.     How  did  it  come  to  pass,  we  ask  with 
wonder,  that  men  grew  so  heated  over  the  famous 
diphthong  ?    Even  Gibbon  is  moved  by  the  personal 
greatness  of  Athanasius  ;  but   the  greater  the  man, 
the  greater  is   the  wonder  of  the  historian  that  he 
should  have  laboured   so  zealously  in  such  a  cause. 
The  orthodox  may  be  tolerably  sure  that,  whatever 
false  opinions  may  arise,  there  will  be  no  heresies  in 
future   about  the  relations    of   the  Persons   of  the 
Trinity.     No  one  will  grudge  them  the  possession  of 
dogmas  which   refer   to   the   mere  exuvi«   of  long- 
extinct  speculation.     Yet  no  rational  historian  can 
now  doubt  that  there  once  was  really  fire  under  all 
the  smoke.    Even  the  early  Fathers  must  have  meant 
something ;  and  we  must  do  them  the  bare  justice  to 
suppose  that  the  subtleties  in  which  they  spent  their 
brains  were  symbols  of  a   profound   and   important 
underlying  principle.     Whatever  the  full  explanation 
of  this  principle,  one  point  seems  to  be  sufficiently 
clear  for  our  purpose. 

The  great  theological  controversies  are  the  conflict 
of  rival  solutions  of  one  great  problem :  how  to  re- 
concile philosophy  to  superstition.  A  vigorous  creed 
has  to  appeal  to  the  populace,  and  yet  to  be  acceptable 
to  the  higher  intellects.  Stoicism  might  satisfy  a 
Marcus  Aurehus,  but  the  mass  required  a  concrete 
duty  ;  not  a  philosophical  theory  of  the  universe,  but  a 
historical,  if  invisible  being,  capable  of  being  definitely 
presented  to  the  average  imagination.     There  must 


TOLERATION 


303 


m 


be  an  official  monotheism,  and  yet  some  substitute 
must  be  found  for  the  old  polytheistic  fancies. 
Christianity  had  to  embody  philosophical  doctrines  of 
a  first  cause,  and  yet  to  frame  a  pantheon  with  a 
hierarchy  of  angels,  saints,  and  devils,  which  was, 
in  fact,  a  simple  survival  of  the  old  pagan  mode  of 
thought.  It  had  in  its  own  phrase  to  provide  a  God- 
man  ;  to  bring  together  into  some  sort  of  unity  two 
conceptions  so  heterogeneous  as  that  of  the  ground 
of  all  existence  and  that  of  a  particular  peasant  in 
Galilee.  One  use  of  language  is  to  conceal,  not  thought, 
but  flat  contradictions  of  thought.  Since  the  con- 
ception of  God  corresponds  to  a  historical  development 
from  the  tribal  deity  to  the  inconceivable  and  infinite 
Being  whose  attributes  can  only  be  expressed  by 
negatives,  the  use  of  the  same  phrase  could  bridge 
the  apparently  infinite  distance,  and  bring  together, 
verbally  at  least,  the  most  contradictory  opinions.  If 
the  traditional  element  of  the  creed  raised  difficulties, 
they  could  be  evaded  by  the  help  of  *  spiritualisation  ' 
and  allegory ;  and  if  the  philosophical  element  led 
to  contradictions,  they  had  only  to  be  called  mysteries. 
If,  in  fact,  the  creed  covered  absolutely  heterogeneous 
philosophies,  that  was,  for  the  time,  its  strength,  and 
not  its  weakness.  The  religious  society  could  thrive 
precisely  because  its  formulae  represented  a  modus 
Vivendi  acceptable  both  to  the  people  and  their  teachers. 
The  religion  was  to  be  cosmopolitan,  but  not  universal. 
It  required  one  God  for  Jew  and  Gentile,  but  he  was 


aartfcmiicijaiBr: 


304 


TOLERATION 


TOLERATION 


305 


still  to  be  the  God  of  a  historical  creed.    He  had  to  be 
identified  historically  with  the  national  ruler  of  a  tribe, 
and  on  the  other  hand  with  the  First  Principle  of  the 
universe.     Monotheism  may  mean  either  belief  in  one 
particular  deity,  or  belief  in  the  essential  unity  which  is 
independent  of  all  particular  events.     The  unity  may 
be  accidental  or  essential.     That  the  two  conceptions 
are  logically  irreconcilable  matters  little.     People  did 
not  look  so  close  as  to  care  for  contradictions.     They 
must  have  both  elements,  the  superstitious  and  the 
philosophical,  however  superficial  the  logical  connec- 
tion. A  rationalism  which  could  really  trust  to  abstract 
reasoning  alone,  and  which  could  really  set  aside  all 
tradition,  was  in  danger  of  being  sublimated  into  a 
shifting  phantasmagoria    of    mystical    metaphysics. 
The  unqualified  deification  of  the   historical   Christ 
was   therefore  necessary   in   order   to  suppress   the 
drift  of  philosophers  into  hopeless  cosmogonical  specu- 
lations.    The  Church  must  have  for  its  head  a  con- 
ceivable Deity.     The  essential  practical  object  was 
to  set  up  a  concrete  theology  which  would  satisfy  the 
needs  of  the  popular  imagination.     As  much  philo- 
sophy might  be  introduced  as  was  consistent  with  the 
traditional  creed ;  but  in  any  case  there  must  be  a 
creed  which  would  work,  and  any  dangerous  incursions 
into  speculation  must  be  rigidly  suppressed.     It  is  for 
the  learned  critic  to  tell  us  precisely  how  this  was 
accomplished.    We  need  not  doubt  for  a  moment  that 
the  great  men  who  worked  out  the  problem,  starting 


from  the  ethical  side,  and  regarding  the  practical  re- 
quirements of  the  time,  were  perfectly  sincere  in 
subordinating  the  philosophical  requirements.     They 
believed   that  it  was  not  only  morally  right,   but 
theoretically  reasonable,  to  start  from  the  traditional 
belief,  and  work  in  the  philosophy  as  far  as  it  would 
go.    When  people  have  learnt  to  distinguish  between 
an  esoteric  and  exoteric  creed,  when  they  hold  that 
philosophy  teaches  scepticism,  while  morality  requires 
dogmatism,   they  come  face  to  face  with    an    un- 
pleasant problem,  and  sometimes  escape  from  it  by 
something  disagreeably  like  lying.     That  issue  was 
probably  not  so  distinctly  presented  to  the  framers  of 
the  early  creed.     But  it  is  no    the  less  true  that,  in 
point  of  fact,  reason  was  put  in  chains  :   forced   to 
grind  in  the  theological  mill,  and  bring  out  the  orthodox 
dogma,  and  therefore  that  the  claims  of  truth  were 
subordinated  to  the  immediate  practical   necessities. 
Difficulties  were  seen- some  difficulties  are  too  pal- 
pable not  to  have  been  seen  by  every  serious  thinker  • 
but  they  were  judiciously  skimmed  over  by  convenient 
formulae.  The  real  deity  had  to  be  the  anthropomorphic 
deity ;  and  was  only  identified  with  the  philosophical 
deity  when  it  was  convenient  to  confute  heretics.    God 
was  the  head  of  the  celestial  hierarchy ;  and  the  Devil 
was  his  adversary.     Practically,  the  Devil  ruled  this 
lower  world,  and  human  beings  had  fallen  under  his 
power.    Such  a  scheme  would  suit  a  polytheistic  creed. 
But  as  God  was  also  the  God  of  philosophers,  it  was 


306 


TOLERATION 


equally  declared  that  the  evil  was  a  mere  negation  or 
nonentity,  and  that  the  Devil,  unpleasantly  active  as 
he  was  for  the  present,  would  be  suppressed  in  time, 
and  that  his  existence  was  therefore  compatible  with 
universal  benevolence.  It  was  hard  to  bring  together 
the  finite  and  the  infinite,  or  to  combine  a  tradition 
with  an  abstract  theory.  But  anything  can  be  done 
by  words.  All  good  impulses,  it  was  said,  come 
from  God  ;  press  the  doctrine,  and  we  have  pre- 
destination and  arbitrary  grace  as  the  sole  basis  of 
morality.  But  man  must  be  allowed  the  mysterious 
attribute  of  free-will.  Since  God  is  reason,  and  will 
help  all  men  impartially,  it  would  seem  on  this  show- 
ing that  one  determining  factor  of  the  result  depends 
absolutely  upon  ourselves.  We  are  in  presence  of  two 
really  contradictory  theories,  but  they  can  be  forced 
into  one  by  the  help  of  judicious  verbal  distinctions. 
The  whole  history  of  theological  controversies  is  a 
history  of  such  devices,  by  which  awkward  questions 
could  be  suppressed  or  relegated  to  the  time  when 
reason  would  insist  upon  its  rights.  'For  God's 
sake,  hold  your  tongue ! '  is  the  plain  answer  to  im- 
pertinent inquirers. 

Whether  from  conscious  reflection  or  unconscious 
instinct,  the  true  problem  was  to  hit  off  that  mixture 
of  philosophy  and  superstition  which  was  best  adapted 
to  secure  the  efficiency  and  authority  of  the  Church. 
While  the  ecclesiastical  system  acquired  unity  and 
vigour,  the  philosophical  doctrine  only  covered  pro- 


TOLERATION 


307 


found  incoherencies  by  a  judicious  manipulation   of 
official  dogma.     The  reasoning   faculty  was   strictly 
subordinated  to  the  needs   of   the   evolution   of   the 
organism.     The  result  is  especially  obvious  in   that 
part  of   the  system  which   applies  to   the   theory  of 
toleration.     The  relations   of  God   to   the   world   at 
large,  or  to  the  soul  of  the  individual,  the  theories  of 
creation  and  of  grace,  present  difficulties  enough  when 
we  have  to  combine  tradition   with   philosophy,  the 
anthropomorphic  with  the  philosophical  conception  of 
the  deity.     But  there  is  also  the  problem  of  the  rela- 
tions of  God  to  the  Church — the  great  organisation 
whose  needs  determined  the  whole  process  of  evolution. 
Does  the  Church  mean  the  saints,  or  does  it  mean  the 
visible  hierarchy,  which  includes  a  good  many  people 
who  are  not  saints  ?     The  question  received  different 
answers,  and  underlay  some  critical  controversies.    In 
the  early  period  the  two  could  be  identified ;  to  be- 
come a  member  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  was  the 
same  thing  as  to  be  saved,  and  the  rite  of  baptism 
was  the  mark  of  adhesion.      But  when   the  Church 
became  a  vast  institution,  including  men  of  all  sorts  ; 
when  a  man  joined  it   as   an  infant   by  hereditary 
right ;  when  it  came  into  relations,  hostile  or  friendly, 
with  the  political   institutions,  the   question   became 
more  complex.     The  Church   retained  the  old  claim 
appropriate  to  the  early  conception.     To  be  a  Christian 
was  still  to  have  a  certain  spiritual  status  ;  all  out- 
siders were  still  without  the  privilege  which  admitted 

X  2 


f^ 


308 


TOLERATION 


to  heaven,  and  as  membership  of  the  Church  implied 
acceptance  of  certain  doctrines,  there  grew  up  the 
theory  of  salvation  by  dogma.  To  be  a  Christian 
gave  a  certain  right,  without  which  none  could  be 
saved,  but  which,  of  course,  required  to  be  supple- 
mented by  compliance  with  other  conditions.  The 
subjects  of  the  new  kingdom  must  be  obedient  to  its 
regulations.  But  though  the  Church  includes  both 
sinners  and  fallible  men,  the  divine  character  still 
adhered  to  the  Chm-ch  in  its  corporate  capacity.  It 
could  be  infallible  in  matters  of  doctrine  and  the  sole 
dispenser  of  the  means  of  grace,  that  is,  of  the  means 
of  keeping  out  of  hell.  From  the  philosophical  point 
of  view,  the  only  difference  between  the  relations  of 
men  to  a  Supreme  Being  must  depend  upon  their 
intrinsic  quality.  But  if  you  believe  in  an  anthropo- 
morphic being,  he  may  have  special  relations  to  a 
favoured  race  or  a  favoured  society ;  he  may  confer  a 
monopoly  upon  a  particular  corporation  ;  and  prescribe 
compliance  with  a  special  set  of  external  regulations 
as  a  condition  of  his  favour.  From  the  preservation, 
therefore,  of  this  anthropomorphic  element  there 
follows  logically  the  whole  system  of  priestly  magic, 
and  of  the  transcendent  value  of  external  rites  and 
observances.  The  God  in  whom  you  believe  is  far 
above  the  god  of  savages ;  but  he  has  to  be  conceived 
as  the  legislator  of  a  particular  historical  system,  and 
his  authority  must  be  represented  by  its  regulations. 
It  was  consistent  still  to  believe  that  the  whole  heathen 


'«• 


TOLERATION 


309 


world — that  is,  the  vast  majority  of  the  race — would  be 
damned   for   not   obeying  rules  of  which   they  had 
never  heard;  that  their  virtues,  since  they  did  not 
come  from  the  grace  of  God,  which  flows  only  in  its 
prescribed  channels,  were  *  splendid  vices  ' ;  and  that 
a  baby  born  when  a  certain  charm  has  been  said  will 
be   saved   eternally,  and  its  brother,  who  has  acci- 
dentally been  overlooked,  be  eternally  damned.     No 
doubt,  as  Butler  suggested,  babies  are  lost  or  rescued 
in  cases  of   physical   illness   by  the  action  of  their 
parents,  and  the  God  of  Eevelation  may  be  expected 
to  act  in  the  same  way  as  the  God  of  Nature.     The 
vital  question  is,  what  we  mean  by  God.     The  word 
covered  two  opposite  senses,  and  the  difficulties  which 
arise  when  the  same  word  is  applied  to  contradictory 
meanings  were  latent  in  the  results.     The  elaborate 
theory  of  sacraments,  of  their  nature,  effects,  condi- 
tions of  efficacy,  mode  of  administering,  and  so  forth, 
is  all  perfectly  intelligible  and  colierent  if  the  sacra- 
ments are  regarded  as  the  regulations  of  a  human 
society,  intended  to  secure  order  and  discipline  within 
the  corporation,  and  to  stimulate  an  interest  by  appro- 
priate observances.    It  is,  on  this  understanding,  simply 
a  case  of  legislation  worked  out  by  minds  imbued  with 
theories  of  jurisprudence,  as  was  natural  to  members  of 
a  vast  organisation  with  an  elaborate  constitution.   But 
when  they  are  regarded  as  regulations  emanating  from 
a  divinity,  we  must  necessarily  suppose  a  thoroughly 
anthropomorphic   being,  capable,  like   human   legis- 


ll!: 


310 


TOLERATION 


lators,  of  applying  only  external  tests,  though  he 
chooses  to  communicate  supernatural  influences  by 
means  of  them  ;  and  when  their  being  is  identified 
with  the  First  Cause,  or  even  with  the  ruler  of  all 
men,  as  well  as  of  the  members  of  his  special  society, 
the  doctrine  is  in  danger  of  becoming  blasphemous. 
The  system  of  legislation  was  no  doubt  intended,  like 
the  English  or  any  other  system  of  law,  in  the  inte- 
rests of  morality.  Some  such  system  was  inevitable 
when  men  were  at  a  certain  stage  of  development, 
and  in  the  hands  of  well-meaning  people  it  may  still 
be  worked,  especially  with  the  help  of  judicious  ex- 
planations and  reticences,  so  as  to  promote  good 
habits  and  avoid  gross  shocks  to  a  healthy  conscience. 
Still,  a  God  who  is  represented  by  a  particular  human 
corporation,  however  august,  will  suffer  in  his 
character.  He  will  have,  like  a  human  legislator,  to 
look  at  the  outside  action  instead  of  the  inmost 
consciousness,  to  be  responsible  for  all  the  slips  and 
irregularities  inevitable  in  a  human  system  of  regula- 
tion, and  to  extend  his  favour  to  a  class  or  a  race  on 
the  most  arbitrary  and  immoral  principles. 

To  look  at  the  problem  historically  is,  therefore,  to 
recognise  the  weakness,  though  not  to  diminish  the 
importance,  of  the  purely  reasoning  faculty.  The 
love  of  abstract  truth  is  the  feeblest  of  all  human 
passions.  There  is  no  passion,  according  to  Bacon, 
which  will  not  overpower  the  fear  of  death.  Certainly 
there  is  none  which   will   not   suppress  the  love   of 


TOLERATION 


311 


logical  consistency.     A  Spinoza— a  man  in  whom  the 
passion  for  logical  harmony  is  really  dominant— is  the 
rarest  of  all  human  types.    Even  the  most  vigorous 
of  thinkers  have  found  their  stimulus  in  some  practical 
need,  and  reasoning  has  been  only  the  instrument  for 
securing  some  end  prescribed  by  the  emotions.     They 
have  seen  that  the  achievement  of  a  social  reform 
involved   the  refutation  of  some  error :   but  if  the 
reasoning  process  did  not  lead  them  to  the  desired 
end,  it  has  generally  been  the  logic,  and  not  the  desired 
conclusion,  which  was  finally  sacrificed.     To  the  great 
mass  of  mankind  a  sacrifice  of  consistency  or  of  rigid 
proof  is,  of  course,  no  sacrifice  at  all.    There  is  nothing, 
as  every  schoolmaster  knows,  which  the  average  mind 
resents  so  much  as  the  demand  for  reasons.    It  will 
gladly  accept  any  rule,  provided  that  it  has  not  to 
answer  the  troublesome  question,  Why  ?     Tell  me  how 
to  answer  :  but,  for  heaven's  sake  !  don't  explain  the 
reasons  of  the  answer.     We  are  sometimes  told  that 
men  of  science  have  to  encounter  the  natural  desire  of 
mankind   to  extend  the  limits  of   knowledge.     That 
seems  to  me  to  be  an  inversion  of  the  truth.    What  a 
man  naturally  desires  is  to  put  a  fixed  stop  to  inquiry. 
To-day,  says  the  man  of  science,  must  be  explained 
by  yesterday  ;  and  the  same  process  must  be  repeated 
for  every  period  to  which  we  can  push  our  researches. 
The  popular   instinct   stops   this    indefinite  regress 
by  a  summary  hypothesis.     This  planet  is  the  uni- 
verse ;  never  mind  the  stars.     The  world  waa  created 


312 


TOLERATION 


6,000  years  ago,  and  there  is  an  end  of  it.  Ask  no 
more.  The  *  explanation  '  turns  out  to  be  that  an  in- 
conceivable being  performed  an  inconceivable  process  ; 
but,  if  accepted  verbally,  it  supplies  an  excuse  for 
dropping  a  troublesome  operation,  which  fatigues  the 
imagination,  though  it  is  still  demanded  by  the  reason. 
We  want  a  world  limited  in  every  direction  ;  we  desire 
to  lay  down  definite  bounds  to  the  labour  of  investiga- 
tion ;  and  we  make  our  limits  by  an  arbitrary  hypo- 
thesis. The  inertness  of  the  average  mind,  not  its 
desire  for  knowledge,  is  the  real  obstacle ;  and  if  it 
nominally  asks  for  an  infinite  and  the  absolute,  that 
means  that  it  wants  to  put  a  final  stop  to  the  restless 
activity  of  the  genuine  inquirer. 

This,  of  course,  is  pre-eminently  true  of  that  part  of 
religious  beliefs  which  corresponds,  not  to  a  statement 
of  fact,  but  to  the  promulgation  of  laws.  You  must  do 
so  and  so ;  you  must  obey  this  or  that  rule  of  the 
society  to  which  you  belong.  To  ask  why  is  to  be 
not  only  impertinent  but  profane.  Society  depends 
upon  the  observation  of  certain  primary  rules ;  and 
the  question  why  they  should  be  obeyed  is,  in  fact,  the 
question  why  they  are  essential  to  the  welfare  of  the 
society,  or  what  is  the  value  of  society  itself  to  its 
members.  Obviously,  these  are  questions  inconvenient 
in  the  highest  degree  to  the  society  which  embodies 
the  working  of  the  laws.  The  dumb  sense  of  their 
necessity  has  embodied  itself  in  a  set  of  imaginary 
sanctions  ;  and  the  imagination  has  attributed  them 


"V 


TOLERATION 


313 


to  the  supernatural  agents  whose  existence  is  assumed 
as  the  ultimate  groundwork  of  all  authority  ;  that  is, 
as  belonging  to  the  region  about  which  it  is  wicked 
to  ask  questions.     The  authority  must  be  taken  for 
granted   in   practice,   and   therefore    in    theory.     A 
government  cannot  be  carried  on  if  the  subjects  are 
entitled  to  go  behind  the  Constitution.      That  is  a 
practical  necessity.     It  is  now  thought  almost  as  wicked 
to  ask  why  a  majority  should  be  obeyed,  as  it  would 
have  been  to  ask  why  a  king  should  be  obeyed,  and  to 
ask  that  was  once  to  ask  why  a  god  should  be  obeyed. 
If  obedience  to  the  moral  law  is  interpreted  as  obe- 
dience to  the  will  of  a  god,  his  authority  must  not 
be   questioned   in   practice ;   for  to  *  question  '  there 
means  to  dispute ;  and  it  must  not  be  questioned  in 
theory,  so  long  as  no  answer  can  possibly  be  given. 
It  is  taken  to  be  part  of  the  primary  data,  assumed  in 
all  social  action,  and  therefore  to  be  enforced  by  society. 
Nothing  can  be  more  simple,  though  it  involves  the 
assumption  that  to  inquire  is  the  same  thing  as  to 
deny.     It  is  only  when  we   have  reached   the  con- 
clusion that  free  inquiry  can  be  constitutive  as  well 
as  destructive  that  we  can  give  full  play  to  the  activity 
of  reason,  even  in  those  sacred  regions  where  assump- 
tions  are  necessary  in   the  sphere  of  conduct,  and 
where,  therefore,  assumptions  are  made  into  ultimate 
or  unquestionable  truths  in  the  sphere  of  speculation. 
The  normal  attitude  of  the  religious  mind  is  there- 
fore conservative.     Even    the  founders  of    a    new 


314 


TOLERATION 


TOLERATION 


815 


^ 


religion  profess  to  be  restoring  an  ancient  creed,  or  in 
some  way  base  their  authority  upon  the  creed  which 
ah-eady  exists.     They  are  at  most  getting  rid  of  accre- 
tions, not  introducing  novelties.  They  advance  from  the 
old  base.     A  religion,  on  its  practical  side,  is  a  system 
of  rules  of  conduct,  and  therefore  involves  an  appeal 
to  some  authority  which  must  not  be  disputed,  even 
in  argument.     In  the  earlier  period,  it  is  an  indistin- 
guishable part  of   the  political  creed.     It  does   not 
persecute  because  it  only  extirpates.     The  rival  tribe 
has  as  good  a  claim  to  its  god  as  to  its  chief,  and  its 
conversion  can  be  only  an  incident  of  its  conquests,  or 
of  the  subjection  of  its  deities  to  the  hostile  deities. 
When  the  creed  has  both  philosophical  and  *  empirical,' 
or  historical,  elements,  persecution   becomes  logical. 
The  faith  of  a  foreigner  is  not  merely  different,  but 
wrong ;  his  god  is  not  another  god,  but  a  devil ;  for 
myvcreed,  as  philosophical,  should  be  universal.     But, 
in  so  far  as  it  includes  historical  elements,  a  recogni- 
tion of  the  sanctity  of  beings  only  known  to  me,  and 
of  facts  of  which  you  have  never  heard,  I  can  enforce 
your   allegiance  only  by  the   universally  intelligible 
argument  of  the  sword.     You  are  a   Turk,   whom, 
perhaps,  I  should  like  to  conquer  for  other  reasons, 
and  it  must  be  right  to  prevent  forcibly  your  allegiance 
to  a  devil.     The  same  argument  applies  within  the 
ecclesiastical  society,  so  long  as  the  creed   includes 
elements  which  are  not  demonstrable  by  reason.     If 
the  central  core  depends  upon  mysteries,  which  rest 


upon  authority  in  this  sense,  that  the  individual  must 
take  them  without  asking  questions,  a  recalcitrant 
individual  can  only  be  suppressed  by  force.  The 
Church  is  the  embodiment  of  the  Divine  element  in 
human  affairs  ;  its  decisions  must  belong  to  the  region 
in  which  all  question  is  profane  :  and  every  attempt 
to  go  *  behind  the  record  '  must  be  suppressed  by  every 
applicable  means.  The  inquirer  has  shown  by  the 
very  act  of  inquiring  that,  in  his  case,  reason  is  not 
an  efficient  weapon,  and  we  must  therefore  try  what 
can  be  done  by  the  stake. 

The  reason,  then,  is  a  faculty  which,  by  the  nature 
of  the  case,  has  to  intrude  itself  tacitly  and  gradually, 
and  under  disguises.     It  may  slowly  disintegrate  old 
opinions  under  cover  of  ambiguities  and  the  gradual 
infiltration  of  new  meanings  into  old  words.      The 
determining  factors  are  evident  when  we  consider  a 
Church  as  a  great  society,  intended  to  meet  certain 
practical  requirements,  and  not  as  a  system  of  philo- 
sophy developed  by  abstract  thinkers.     It  has  to  rule 
by  obeying ;  to  adapt  itself  to  the  state  of  mind  of  the 
believers,  to  incorporate  old   superstitions,   to  make 
use  of  the  imaginative  construction  embodied  in  the 
previous  half-instinctive  conceptions  of  the  universe, 
to  sanction  whatever  appeals  to  the  crude  masses  of 
mankind,  and  only  to  consider  the   requirements  of 
the  more  thoughtful  so  far  as  is  necessary  to  secure 
their  co-operation.     If   they  will   accept  the   official 
formulaB,   they  may   be  allowed,    within  limits,    to 


316 


TOLERATION 


introduce  elements  really  inconsistent,  so  long  as 
the  inconsistency  is  carefully  hidden  away.  A  vigor- 
ous religion  is  a  superstition  which  has  enslaved 
a  philosophy.  Slowly,  and  by  soft  degrees,  indeed, 
the  new  leaven  of  thought  may  produce  a  vast  revolu- 
tion. If  the  philosopher  is  tolerated  on  condition  of 
proving  the  orthodox  conclusions,  the  admission  that 
a  proof  is  desirable  leads  to  a  recognition  that  it  will 
not  always  work  in  the  desired  direction.  But  the 
reason  is  still  bound  by  inexorable  necessity  to  pre- 
sent itself  as  a  development  instead  of  a  contradiction. 
Its  successes  are  won  only  when  it  can  point  to  some 
conclusion  comprehensible  by  the  majority.  The 
abstract  arguments  against  the  authority  of  the 
Church  will  be  regarded  with  indifference  until  abuses 
have  grown  up  which  supply  a  palpable  reductio  ad 
ahmrdum.  The  theory  of  indulgences  might  be  illo- 
gical, but  no  one  cared  till  they  were  obviously  used 
for  commercial  purposes.  Persecution  may  be  wrong, 
but  the  abstract  arguments  were  of  little  efficacy  till 
the  persecuted  were  able  to  fight.  When,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  men  of  different  creeds  had  to  live  in 
the  same  country,  and  to  deal  with  each  other  in 
ordinary  affairs,  they  came  to  see  that  the  differences 
were  not  so  vast  as  to  imply  that  one  creed  came  from 
God  and  the  other  from  the  Devil.  The  way  to  teach 
toleration  is  to  force  Protestants  and  Catholics  to 
live  together  on  terms  of  equality.  The  ordinary 
mind  still  needs  some  kind  of  picture-writing,  a  con- 


TOLEEATION 


317 


Crete  instance,  not  a   general   principle.     A   theory 
confutes  itself  by  some  logical  application  which  re- 
volts even  the   instinct   out   of   which   it   originally 
sprang.     Then,  and   not   before,  it  becomes  evident 
that   there   must   be  something   wrong— somewhere. 
When  we  have  learnt  by  experience  that  freethinkers 
may  be  decent  people,  we  cannot  make  up  our  minds 
to   burn   them.       By   degrees   the    moral    instincts 
have   broken    through   the   dogmatic   bondage,   and 
forced   the   most  dogged   theologians  to  find   means 
of  importing  liberal  theories  even  into  the  heart  of 
their  formulae.     Persecution  has  been  discredited,  till 
even  the  most  dogmatic  disavow  indignantly  the  prin- 
ciples of  which  they  once  boasted.     All  that  remains 
is   a   survival   of   certain   claims   carefully  divorced 
from  their  practical  application.     Although  the  dog- 
matic system  renounces  the  aid  of  the  secular  arm,  it 
is  forced  to  claim  the  same  spiritual  position.     It  still 
represents  the  one  body  of  truth  upon  which  the  salva- 
tion of  men  hereafter,  and  their  morality  and  welfare  in 
this  world,  are  essentially  dependent.     Its  antagonists 
are  still  instruments,  though  not  the  conscious  instru- 
ments, of  the  Devil.     So   long  as  it  claims  to  be  a 
supernatural  revelation,  it  must  invert  the  true  order 
of  thought,  and  represent  itself,  not  as  one  stage  in  a 
slow  development,  one  step  in  an  approximation,  but 
as  whole,  pure,  and   perfect,  and   differing  from  all 
other  doctrine,  not  in  degree,  but  in  kind. 

Persecution     clearly    implies     authority.      Does 


318 


TOLERATION 


authority  necessarily  imply  persecution  ?     That  ques- 
tion can  only  be  answered  when  the  vague  phrase  is 
made  specific.     All  men  have  to  take  most  of  their 
opinions  upon  authority— that  is,  to  believe  because 
others  believe  ;  and  the  reason  is  often  a  very  good 
one.    In  the  doctrines,  again,  which  form  the  substance 
of  a  religious  creed,  the  great  bulk  of  mankind  in- 
evitably depends  upon  authority— that  is,  they  must 
accept  the  beliefs  of  the  few  who  can  reason.     In  that 
sense  I  take  my  astronomy  and  nearly  all  my  mathe- 
matics upon  authority,  as  well  as  my  belief  in  Eome 
or  in  JuHus  Caesar.     I  have  not  personally  investigated 
the  arguments  in  one  case,  or  the  evidence  for  facts 
in  the  other.     Again,  men's  religious  beliefs  are,  as  a 
fact,   chiefly   determined   by  the   society  into   which 
they  are  born,  and  the  true  history  of  a  religion  must 
be  sought,  not  in  an  examination  of  the  logical  rela- 
tions of  its  official  creed,  but  in  the  development  of  the 
organised  society  which  we  call  a  Church.  And,  there- 
fore again,  it  is  sufficiently  obvious  that  the  religious 
belief  is  a  development  of  traditions,  and  is  impressed 
upon  the  individual   by  the  more  or  less   organised 
action  of  the  society.     The  other  side  of  the  same  fact 
is  that  the  Church  can  only  thrive  by  embodying  the 
beliefs  and  satisfying  the  instincts  of  its   members. 
It  is  not  an  arbitrary  form  imposed  from  without 
but  simply  a  development  and  co-ordination   of  the 
various  elements  of  the  popular  creed  by  means  of 
the   social   organ.      The   fact,    therefore,  that  most 


TOLERATION 


319 


people  believe  on  authority  is  the  explanation  of  the 
fact  that  most  people  believe  so  much  nonsense :  that 
every  creed  hitherto  established  includes  survival  of 
superstitions,  and  inadequate  solutions  of  difficulties, 
and  unstable  combinations  of  heterogeneous  elements 
of  thought.  A  belief  in  the  fact  of  authority  is, 
therefore,  really  incompatible  with  a  belief  in  the 
fact  of  infallible  authority.  When  we  see  how  creeds 
are  formed,  we  see  why  they  must  be  full  of  error  and 
inconsistency. 

But,  again,  the  Church  is  developed  by  its  prac- 
tical utility:  its  power  of  satisfying  certain  human 
aspirations  and  imaginations.  The  utility  of  a 
doctrine  is  only  indirectly  related  to  its  truth ;  or 
rather,  before  we  can  say  what  is  the  element  of 
truth  or  falsehood,  we  have  to  consider  the  doctrine 
from  outside  :  to  ask,  as  we  have  done  in  the  case  of 
the  savage  tribe,  whether  the  value  of  a  belief  in  a 
certain  deity  lies  in  the  fact  that  such  a  deity  exists,  or 
in  the  fact  that  a  certain  useful  instinct  is  connected 
in  the  savage  mind  with  the  existence  of  the  deity. 
Is  the  real  pith  and  meaning  of  the  belief  in  the  direct 
meaning  of  the  words,  or  in  the  utility  which  it 
indirectly  ascribes  to  certain  modes  of  conduct  ?  The 
meaning  of  dogmas  in  a  semi-civilised  race  is  that  a 
certain  organisation  is  invested  with  sanctity,  and 
can,  therefore,  secure  obedience  and  co-operation. 
The  Church  may  have  been  a  highly  useful  organisa- 
tion, as  a  counterpoise  to  the  more  brutal  system  of  a 


1^ 


820 


TOLERATION 


TOLEEATION 


321 


military  aristocracy.  But  it  does  not  follow  that  the 
utility  depended  upon  the  superstitious  attributes,  a 
belief  in  which  may,  in  a  historical  sense,  have 
been  necessary  to  its  efficiency.  They  may  have  been 
the  mere  trappings,  the  ceremonial  outside,  which  could 
be  advantageously  aboHshed  when  men  became  more 
reasonable.  We  can  be  loyal  to  a  king  now  without 
believing  that  kingship  involves  any  mysterious  or 
supernatural  attributes,  and  we  may  believe  that  a 
Church  was  useful  though  the  magical  powers  attri- 
buted to  it  were  a  mere  appendage  to  its  utility. 

The  authority  of  the  Church,  when  the  Church  is 
regarded  as  a  social  organisation,  is  simply  a  trans- 
lation  into   ecclesiastical   of    the    loyal   doctrine  of 
sovereignty.     The  lawyer  shows  that  every  political 
Constitution    implies    the   existence  of  a   sovereign 
somewhere.     That  is  to  say,  simply,  that  the  condi- 
tion of  unity  of  action  is  the  existence  of  some  ulti- 
mate body  for  deciding  upon  the  action  of  the  whole. 
There  must  be  some  ultimate  court  of  appeal,  or  dis- 
putes cannot  be  decided,  as  the  corporate  body  cannot 
act  as  a  unit.  The  unity  of  the  Church  implies  an  eccle- 
siastical, as  the  unity  of  the  State  implies  a  political, 
sovereign,  whether  the  sovereign  be  the  Pope  or  any 
other  body,  constituted   according   to   certain   rules. 
Authority,  in  this  sense,  is  the  antithesis  of  authority 
in    the    philosophical    sense.     The    authority   of  a 
number  of  people,  considered  politically,  varies  with 
their  mutual  dependence.     They  can  act  more  ener- 


getically as  each   individual  is  subordinated  to  the 
rest.     The  authority,  in  a  philosophical  sense,  varies 
as  the  independence.     If  two  qualified  people   come 
to  the  same  conclusion,  its  value  is  doubled  or  more 
than    doubled.     If  one  accepts  the  opinion   of  the 
other,  the  authority  is  only  the  authority  of  the  first. 
If  every  member  of  the  Eoyal  Society  told  me  that 
he  had  reached  a   scientific   truth   independently,  I 
should  probably  believe  it  to  be  established.     If  each 
told  me  he  accepted  it  because  the  President  of  the 
Society  had  declared  it  to  be  true,  I  should  have  only 
the  authority  of  one  man.     Therefore,  the  closer  the 
political  union,  the  less  the  real  philosophical  autho- 
rity.    While,  however,  we  believe  in  the  supernatural 
character  of  a  Church,  and  are  prepared   to  accept 
miracles,  we  can,  of  course,   believe    in    its    uniting 
authorities  of  both  kinds.     The  fact  of  the  unity,  of 
the  antecedent  resolution  to  agree,   which   is   really 
fatal  to  the  philosophical  authority,  because  it  proves 
that  the  unity  is  the  result  of  other  than  philosophical 
considerations,  may  induce  me  to  accept  the  creed,  so 
long  as  I  consider  faith  to  be  a  matter  of  obedience 
instead  of  conviction.     As  politicians  used  to  consider 
a  Constitution  to  be  the  cause  of  all   the    supposed 
political  virtues  of  a  country,  instead  of  seeing  in  it  a 
product  of  the  political  qualities,  so  the  organisation 
of  a  miraculous  Church  which  could  reveal  the  truth 
and  bestow  the  means  of  salvation  because  it  could 
suppress  dissent  and  enforce  conformity,  was  supposed 

Y 


\ 


322 


TOLERATION 


to  be  the  source  of  all  the  instincts  to  which  it  really 
owed  its  origin. 

Where  such  a  confusion  exists   between  the  two 
kinds  of  *  authority,'  the  power  to  suppress  and  the 
capacity  to  know,  persecution  cannot  be  inconsistent. 
If  I  know  that  a  certain  body  is  the   manifestation 
of  God  upon  earth,  and  that  its  regulations  are  parts 
of  the  divine  law,  they  may  be  enforced   by   either 
branch   of   *  authority.'     And   so  long   as   the  creed 
includes  *  empirical,'   or   purely   historical   elements, 
persecution  must  be  necessary.     If  the  divine  power 
is  identified  with  an  institution  existing  only  within 
certain   limits   of   time   and  place,  the  theory  must 
include   an  arbitrary    element:   and   such   a   theory 
cannot   be   propagated  by  pure  reason.     A  scientific 
doctrine  gives  general,  not  particular,  laws  ;  a  science 
of  mechanics  is  true  wherever  there  is  existing  and 
moving  matter  ;  and  a  science  of  psychology,  wherever 
there  are  human  beings.     Doctrines  of  such  a  nature 
can  be,  therefore,  taught  independently  of  particular 
conditions.     The  scientific  doctrine,  as  such,  has  not 
to  deal  with  this  or  that  bit  of  matter — with  St.  Paul's 
Church  in  London,  or  the  Observatory  at  Greenwich — 
but  with  all  matter  ;  not  with  Paul  or  Caesar,  but  with 
human    beings.     Therefore    the   arguments    are    as 
applicable  at  the  Antipodes  as  in  England.     So  the 
arguments   for  theology,  so  long  as  they  are  philo- 
sophical, are  equally  good  in  London  or  China,  now 
or  10,000  years  ago.     But  if  your  theology  asserts 


TOLERATION 


323 


that  a  particular  person  who  appeared  at  a  given 
time  and  place  was  also  God  Almighty,  it  includes 
an  element  of  which  the  vast  majority  of  the  race 
have  been  necessarily  ignorant,  and  which  is  irrelevant 
to  pure  philosophy.  In  such  a  case,  authority  is  at 
least  highly  convenient.  You  have  got  to  beheve 
simply  because  I  tell  you  to  believe  ;  and,  as  belief 
is  essential  to  your  eternal  happiness,  I  shall  make 
you  believe.  My  *  telling  '  shall  have  the  force  of  an 
order,  not  simply  of  a  bit  of  useful  information.  So 
long  as  such  an  empirical  element  remains,  the  door 
is  open  for  some  fragment  of  persecution.  So  long 
as  the  religion  supposes  a  belief  in  facts  which  are 
not  capable  of  establishment  by  reason,  it  has  a 
natural  affinity  to  support  by  *  authority '  in  the  sense 
of  coercion.  The  duty  is  allied  to  a  particular  set 
of  institutions  and  events.  Though  persecution,  in 
the  grosser  sense,  has  gone  out  of  fashion,  and,  we 
may  hope,  for  ever,  the  spirit  is  still  left  wherever  this 
element  remains.  For  if  the  creed  is  divine,  its  oppo- 
nents are  diabolical.  The  heretical  view  is  taken  to  be 
— not  part  of  the  imperfect  process  of  clumsy  dialectics 
by  which  the  human  mind  gradually  works  out  a 
trustworthy  creed — but  an  absolute  denial  of  the  truth. 
We  are  learning,  in  political  questions,  that  a  revolu- 
tion in  some  sense  justifies  itself.  It  proves  that  the 
old  order  was  defective,  though  it  does  not  prove  that 
the  innovation  gives  the  final  solution.  So  the 
growth  of  materialism,  and  atheism,  and  agnosticism, 

Y  2 


324 


TOLERATION 


325 


and  other  wicked  doctrines,  should  be  recognised  as 
proving,  at  least,  that  the  system  of  thought,  which 
has  broken  down  in  practice,  was  defective  in  theory. 
But  so  long  as  opinions  are  regarded,  not  as  moments 
in    a   great   intellectual   development,  but  as  things 
injected   from   without,  suggested   by    the   Devil  or 
revealed  by   a    deity;   so   long,   therefore,   as   there 
is  something  essentially  arbitrary  in  the  whole  pro- 
cess ;  so  long  as  a  particular  creed  or  Church  can  be 
regarded  as  monopolising  the  whole  divine  element, 
and  only  the  anti-divine  can  be  left  to  its  opponents, 
there  is  a  natural  leaning  to  coercion  of  some  kind, 
whether  the  bigotry  can  use  appropriate  instruments 
or  must  relieve  itself  by  simply   anathematising  its 
opponents.      The    final   and   adequate    solution   can 
only   be  reached   when   *  authority'   in    matters    of 
opinion  means  simply  that  kind  of  authority  which 
is  in  principle  also  demonstration;  the  authority  of 
the  coincidence  of   independent  thinkers,  not  of  the 
agreement  of   a  body  to   put   down  all  dissent.     In 
that  case  the  superstitious,  arbitrary,  and  temporary 
element    might    disappear,   and   philosophy    be   the 
ally   instead    of   the   slave   of    religion.      But   it  is 
difficult  to  say  how  much  of  the  old  creed  will  have 
to  be  sacrificed  before  such   a   consummation  comes 
within  a  distance  measurable  by  the  imagination. 


THE  BELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 

There  is,  we  know,  a  religion  common  to  all  men  of 
sense ;  though  men  of  sense  never  say  what  that 
religion  may  be.  There  may  be  more  reasons  than 
one  for  their  reticence.  A  man  of  sense  is  well  aware 
that  he  can  say  what  he  pleases  without  shocking  the 
most  delicate  orthodoxy.  He  requires  no  crypto- 
graphic art  to  hide  his  meaning,  for  plain  letters  are 
ciphers  to  all  who  are  not  men  of  sense.  The  average 
reader  is  frightened  by  the  use  of  certain  counters, 
not  by  the  ideas  which  they  symbolise  for  the  under- 
standing. Refrain  from  dotting  your  *'s  and  crossing 
your  ^s,  and  your  utterance  will  be  for  him  an  insoluble 
mystery.  He  would  be  shocked  if  you  said  in  plain 
terms  *  there  is  no  God  ' ;  but  it  is  easy  to  give  quite 
an  orthodox  and  edifying  turn  to  the  sentiment.  We 
have  all  read  defences  of  Agnosticism,  which  pass  for 
assaults  upon  the  wicked  *  deist,*  and  elaborate  expo- 
sitions of  downright  materialism  intended  to  support 
Christianity.  Men  of  sense,  I  fancy,  often  wish  to 
avoid  scandal  rather  than  to  conceal  their  sentiments 
from  their  peers.     They  trust  to  a  freemasonry  which 


826 


THE   RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


exists  among  themselves,  and  presents  an  impenetrable 
barrier  to  the  sagacity  of  fools.  One  may  guess  that 
the  esoteric  creed  drops  some  articles  of  the  orthodox 
faith ;  but  the  man  of  sense,  while  he  has  a  con- 
temptuous smile  for  anyone  who  (as  M.  Kenan  says 
of  St.  Paul)  'believes  heavily,'  or  takes  all  creeds 
seriously,  has  a  hearty  dislike  for  the  man  who  too 
openly  discards  the  established  tenets.  Why  drop  a 
veil  so  easily  worn  ?  Keligion  is,  after  all,  useful ;  and 
we  are  even  bound — for  the  sensible  man  can  take  a 
high  moral  tone  when  he  pleases — to  invent  the  God 
who  does  not  exist. 

But  how  are  we  to  be  guided  in  these  troublesome 
days,  when  rash  persons  have  insisted  upon  revealing 
the  open  secret,  and  the  esoteric  creed  of  the  sensible 
man  has  been  proclaimed  so  that  they  who  run  may 
read  ?  On  the  whole,  the  sensible  man  would  reply : 
You  had  better  hold  your  tongue.  We,  at  least,  who 
have  no  new  gospel  to  preach,  will  not  set  up  for 
prophets.  Let  us  look  on  as  calmly  as  may  be  at  the 
huge  turmoil  of  conflicting  controversy;  smile  with 
equal  calmness  at  the  bigots  who  would  damn  people 
for  losing  their  way  in  the  dark;  at  the  pompous 
dogmatists  who  would  face  it  out  that  they  can  see  as 
clearly  as  in  broad  daylight;  at  the  feather-headed 
enthusiasts  who  take  the  first  will-o*-the-wisp  for  a  safe 
guide,  and  patch  up  a  new  religion  out  of  scraps  and 
tatters  of  half-understood  science ;  and  at  the  simple- 
minded  philosophers  who  fancy  in  all  seriousness  that 


THE  KELIGION   OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN  327 

men  are  about  to  become  reasoning  animals.    Vanity 

Fair  is   a   queer  place  at  best;   and,   amid   all  the 

confused  outcries  that  rise  ceaselessly  from  its  noisy 

inhabitants,  the  screams  and  curses  of  rival  religious 

quacks  are  surely  the  fittest  to  provoke  a  bitter  smile. 

We  may  pity  the  poor  pilgrim  groaning  in  Doubting 

Castle,  and  despise  the  impotent  fury  of  Giant  Pope 

in  his  ancient  den  ;  but  the  empty  brag  of  charlatans 

and   humbugs   in   the   Fair   itself,  though  they  are 

masquerading  in  the  most  imposing  of  robes,  is  best 

met  with  silent  contempt.    Let  us  trust  that,  somehow 

or  other,  the  mad  bustle  will  subside  in  time  ;  that  the 

great  world  will  blunder  in  its  own  clumsy  fashion 

into  some  tolerable  order,  and   some  scum  of  effete 

superstition  be  worked  off  in  the  chaotic  fermentation. 

Meanwhile,  let  us  cultivate  our  little  area  of  garden, 

knowing  well  that,  long  before  a  brighter  day  dawns,  we 

too  shall  have  been  swept  off  into  the  great  darkness, 

and  our  little  crotchets  and  nostrums  have  become  as 

ludicrous  as  those  of  our  forefathers.     Let  us  possess 

our  souls  in  peace,  and  acknowledge  that  Swift  has 

pretty  well  summed  up  the  fittest  epilogue  for  Jove  to 

pronounce  upon  the  farce  of  the  world,  '  I  damn  such 

fools ! ' 

Truth  may  be  hidden  in  a  sneer,  and  the  language 
of  the  satirist  may  be  translated  into  most  amiable 
phraseology.  Substitute  the  sentimental  for  the 
scornful  tone,  and  many  tender  and  generous  natures 
will    echo    the    conclusion.     Intellectual    indolence, 


i 


% 


328  THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE   MEN 

which  shrinks  from  the  painful  effort  of  rearranging 
first  principles,  and  a  real  scrupulosity  as  to  hurting 
the  feelings   of  babes  and   sucklings,  may  be  com- 
bined  in   the   sensible  man's   remonstrance  against 
stirring    the    waters    needlessly.     The  judgment  of 
common -sense  is  not  final,  but  it  always  has  a  certain 
presumption  in  its  favour.    We  must  at  least  show 
why  it  is  so  plausible.     It  is  easy  enough  to  retort  by 
calling  names,  by  accusing  your  sensible  adversary  of 
cynicism,  falsehood,  and  want  of  faith  in  the  power  of 
truth.    But,  when  one  descends  from  mere  generalities, 
one  feels  that  a  view  which  commends  itself  not  only 
to  the  wary,  to  the  prudent,  and  the  worldly-wise,  but 
to  many  generous  and  lofty  natures,  deserves  a  more 
distinct  answer.     It  should  be  met,  so  far  as  it  can  be 
met,  point  by  point,  and  any  element  of  truth  which 
it  contains  should  be  fairly  and  frankly  acknowledged. 
And  any  answer  should  begin  by  admitting  the  really 
strong   part  of   the   opponent's   case.     There  can,  I 
think,  be  no  doubt  as  to  where  the  strength  lies. 

It  is  plain  that  the  appeal  for  reticence  would  be 
thrown  away  upon  anyone  who  seriously  believed 
himself  able  to  answer  the  great  question.  What  is  to 
be  the  religion  of  the  future  ?  If  I  have  a  gospel,  I 
am  bound  to  proclaim  it.  But,  so  long  as  that  ques- 
tion remains  unanswered  and  unanswerable,  there  is  a 
practical  difficulty  which,  however  frequently  overlooked 
or  denied,  recurs  in  one  form  or  other  with  provoking 
persistency.     You   may   cut    the   knot  by  a   simple 


THE   RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE   MEN  329 

declaration  that  truth  is  above  everything ;  but  you 
do   not   clear    away  the    honest    scruples    of    your 
antagonist :  he  still  shrinks  from  the  duty,  even  if  he 
acknowledges  it,   and  replies   by  awkward   cases   of 
conscience.    It  is  very  easy,  and  at  the  present  time 
very  safe,  to  tilt  against  the  established  creeds.     I 
should  be  the  last  to  dispute  that  the  men  who  assail 
them  are  animated  by  the  purest  love  of  truth.     And 
yet,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  we  are  often  tempted 
to   think  that  the  creeds  might  be  left  to  decay  of 
themselves,  and  expire  by  the  method  of  explanation. 
Let  us,  however,  look  at  the  question  a  little  more 
distinctly.     And,  in  the  first  place,  let  us  admit  fully 
and  frankly  that  the  problem  about  the  religion  of  the 
future  is  simply  insoluble.     Inspired  prophecy  is  out 
of  date  ;  and  though  we  talk  about  scientific  prediction 
in   such   matters,  the  phrase  is  little  better  than  a 
mockery.     To  predict  history  is  to  make  a  guess  with 
an  indefinite  chance  of  error.     Perhaps  we  may  say 
pretty  confidently  that  the  dead  will  not  come  to  life, 
nor  two  and  two  be  pi-oved  to  make  five ;  but  to  give 
any  precise  form  to  our  vague  anticipations  of  the 
future  is  simply  to  court  the  ridicule  of  posterity — if 
posterity  is  silly  enough  to  study  our  guesses.     There 
is,  indeed,  a  royal  road  to  prophecy  in  this  particular 
case,  which  is  taken  often  enough.     My  opinion,  says 
each  man,  is  true  ;  moreover,  the  truth  will  prevail ; 
and  hence  it  follows  that  my  opinion,  whatever  it  may 
be,  represents  the  future  faith  of  the  world.     However 


■"■^t" 


330  THE  KELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 

satisfactory  to  the  individual  mind,  there  are  difficulties 
about  using  this  argument  in  controversy.  Doubtless 
to  believe  an  opinion  is  to  believe  that  it  is  true,  and 
to  doubt  that  truth  will  ultimately  prevail  is  to  suppose 
that  the  development  of  thought  is  nothing  but  a  vague 
fluctuation  hither  and  thither  of  endless  and  contra- 
dictory blundering.  And  yet  the  man  who  can  believe 
that  his  own  conception  is  definitive  and  complete,  and 
that  truth  is  to  be  fully  reached  the  day  after  to- 
morrow, shows  that  he  possesses  the  sanguine  temper 
and  dogmatic  self-confidence  which  are,  indeed,  neces- 
sary conditions  of  the  successful  propagation  of  a  creed, 
but  which  are  very  far  from  being  sufficient  conditions. 
Too  many  philosophers  and  preachers  have  an- 
nounced themselves  to  be  in  possession  of  the  truth 
to  leave  us  much  confidence  in  such  predictions.  M. 
Comte  was  very  confident  of  the  future  of  his  Church  ; 
but  it  has  not  yet  covered  the  civilised  world.  Every 
new  Church  aims  at  being  universal  and  eternal ;  but 
the  one  thing  certain  is,  that  all  creeds  have  perished. 
Socrates  is  a  man,  therefore  Socrates  is  mortal,  passes 
for  a  good  syllogism.  May  we  not  say,  with  an  equal 
show  of  a  sound  inductive  basis,  Positivism  is  a 
religion,  therefore  positivism  will  die  ? 

I  hold,  after  a  fashion,  the  pleasant  old  doctrine 
that  truth  has  a  tendency  to  prevail.  I  believe  that 
we  may  discern  in  the  past  history  of  mankind  a  slow 
approximation  toward  truth— a  gradual  substitution 
of    more  comprehensive  and  accurate  views  of  the 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE   MEN 


331 


world  for  the  narrower  and  less  verifiable  -  and  I 
need  not  expound  the  familiar  arguments  for  that 
doctrine.  It  follows,  too,  that  in  believing  any 
doctrine  we  believe  also  that  it  will  slowly  force 
its  way  to  a  wider  recognition  in  the  clash  and  con- 
flict of  rival  creeds.  We  believe  it  to  be  part  of 
that  solid  core  of  truth  which  is  gradually  freeing 
itself  from  superincumbent  masses  of  error  and 
assumption.  But  we  have  still  to  ask  how  far  this 
doctrine  can  be  applied  to  any  given  contingency. 
May  we  infer,  for  example,  from  the  triumph  of 
Christianity  that  it  included  more  truth  than  the 
beliefs  which  it  ousted  ;  or,  from  the  assumed  truth 
of  any  new  creed  of  our  own,  that  it  will  triumph 
over  the  adverse  force  of  existing  orthodoxy  ? 

Here  we  have  at  once  to  confront  a  fact  which 
lies  on  the  very  surface  of  history.  The  doctrine 
of  a  continuous  and  uniform  progress  of  opinion 
is  simply  untenable.  Historians  of  philosophy 
manage  occasionally  to  twist  the  records  of  past 
thought  into  a  confirmation  of  some  such  view. 
But,  to  gain  even  a  show  of  continuity,  they  have  to 
limit  their  view  to  a  few  scattered  men  of  exceptional 
eminence.  They  make  one  bound  from  the  ancient 
to  the  modern  world,  or,  if  they  admit  a  few 
stepping-stones  in  the  interval,  they  at  least  assume 
periods  of  many  centuries  when  thought  was  stagnant 
or  retrograde,  and  when  countless  millions  remained 
in  placid  ignorance,  plunged  in  errors  long  detected 


332  THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 

by  the  few.      The  torch  is  not  really  passed  from 
hand  to  hand   by  the  masses.      Solitary  watchers 
upon  rare  eminences  catch  a  glimpse  of  distant  lights 
across  profound  valleys,  or  rather  vast   breadths   of 
continent,  steeped  in  supine  indifference.     Religious 
thought  is  as  little  continuous  as  philosophical.     If 
you   are  a   disbeliever    in   Christian    theology,   you 
can    hardly    deny    that    ancient    philosophers    had 
reached  truths  destined  to  long  ages  of  oblivion,  and 
opened  paths  which  had  fallen  into  complete  disuse 
till    again    opened    by    inquirers    in    the    last    few 
generations.     If  you  are  a  Christian,  you  hold  im- 
plicitly that  truths  once  recognised  by  the  strongest 
minds  have  become  obscure  or  been  openly  rejected 
as    modern   society   has   become   more    enlightened, 
but,  upon  your   hypothesis,  more   corrupt.     It   may 
be  possible  to  detect  a  slow  evolution  in  certain  pro- 
found  conceptions   which   underlie    all    methods    of 
thought;     but   it   is   impossible    to    deny   that    the 
evolution    is    extremely    slow,    often    imperceptible, 
and  consistent  with  the  rise  and   decay  of  various 
forms  of  religious  belief,  and  therefore,  presumably, 
with  the  growth  of  new  error  or  the  loss  of  ancient 
truth.     If  there   has  been   a    slow  accumulation   of 
treasure  in  the  long  run,  yet  the  race  has  rejected 
much  that  it  once  thought  valuable,  and   probably 
lost   for   long    periods    much    which    had    intrinsic 
worth. 

The  rationalist  may  well  feel  that  on  many  points 


THE  RELIGION   OF  ALL  SENSIBLE   MEN 


888 


he    would    sympathise    more    closely   with    Marcus 
Aurelius  than  with   St.  Paul.     The   Stoical  view  of 
the  world  and  life  may  appear  to  him  worthier,  freer 
from   antiquated  mythology,  and  more  congenial    to 
modern   thought   than   that  of    the    great    Apostle. 
And  yet  the  Christian  triumphed  ;   and  why  ?    For 
reasons  which  the  Christian  apologist  never  tires  of 
enforcing,  and  of  which  I  am  quite  content  to  assume 
the   substantial   accuracy.      It  triumphed,  doubtless, 
because  it  was  better  suited  to  human  natm-e,  that  is, 
the  nature  of  average  men  of  the  time  ;  because  philo- 
sophy flew  above  their  heads,  while  religion  grasped 
their   imagination,  provided   an   utterance  for   their 
emotions,   and  presented   an   ideal   character   which 
they  could  love  and  understand.     The  prima  facie 
inference,  indeed,   is   not  that  which   the   apologist 
wishes  to  draw.     A  creed  may  thrive  because  it  falls 
in  with  the  weakness  as  well  as  with  the  strength  of 
its   adherents ;    because  it  is   easily  assimilated   at 
once  with  the  current  superstitions  and  the  current 
philosophy  ;  because  it  gives  that  half-truth  which  is 
for  the  time  the  most  congenial  to  the  popular  mind. 
There  is  something  in  Charles  II. 's  explanation  of  the 
preacher's  success — that  *  his  nonsense   suited   their 
nonsense    ;  and,  in  short,  there  is  a  presumption  that 
a    religion    fitted    to    the    actual    stage    of    mental 
development  must  be,  so  far,  unfitted  for  the  most 
advanced  minds.     The  apologist  is  therefore  anxious 
to  point  out  that,  though  the  creed  exactly  meets  the 


334 


THE   RELIGION   OF  ALL   SENSIBLE  MEN 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN  335 


> 


wants  of  the  time,  its  purity  and  perfection  prove 
that  it  could  not  be  the  product  of  the  time.  We 
can  understand  its  success  when  once  originated  ;  we 
can  not  understand  its  originating,  except  from  some 
superhuman  intelligence.  And  here,  again,  omitting 
the  illegitimate  leap  to  the  supernatural,  we  can  fully 
admit  the  general  force  of  the  argument.  To  dis- 
cover a  creed  capable  of  clothing  the  vague  emotions 
\  of  that  and  so  many  succeeding  generations  was 
clearly  a  work  requiring  genius  of  the  rarest  and 
highest  order,  or,  more  probably,  the  concentrated 
activity  of  many  men  of  genius  combined  in  un- 
conscious co-operation  by  the  collective  sentiment 
of  their  age.     The  phenomenon  is  of  the  same  kind 

which  it  is  a  commonplace  to  notice  in  a  sphere  only 
i 

one  degree  less  exalted.     Given  your  man  of  genius — 

yom'  Shakespeare  or  Dante — we  can  dimly  see  how 
he  was  created  by  the  conditions  of  the  time.  He  is 
great  in  virtue  of  his  capacity  for  gathering  into  one 
focus  and  uttering  in  articulate  language  the  thoughts 
and  emotions  indistinctly  fermenting  in  the  minds 
of  innumerable  contemporaries.  Yet  no  one  can  pre- 
dict the  appearance  of  a  man  of  genius,  or  show 
deductively  that  a  Shakespeare  must  have  arisen 
under  Elizabeth.  The  founder  of  a  religion  belongs 
to  an  order  still  more  exalted  than  that  of  poets, 
philosophers,  or  statesmen.  When  he  has  solved  the 
problem,  the  answer  is  simple  enough.  Till  he  has 
solved  it,  we  are   still  blindly  groping  in  the  dark, 


conscious  of  a  want,  but  totally  unable  to  give  it  dis- 
tinct utterance,  or  to  predict  what  will  satisfy  it.  It 
may  be  true— let  us  hope  it  to  be  true — that  the  hour 
will  always  bring  the  man;  that  we  have  Shake- 
speares  by  the  dozen  ready  to  burst  into  song  when- 
ever spring-time  comes  ;  that  society,  like  the  air,  is 
everywhere  full  of  germs  of  genius  requiring  only  the 
occurrence  of  the  particular  degree  of  temperature 
necessary  to  give  them  life  and  vigour.  Yet  we  are 
still  as  unable  as  ever  to  say  what  are  the  conditions 
productive  of  those  flowering  times  in  art  or  literature 
which  have  made  a  few  great  epochs  remarkable  to 
all  future  ages ;  no  advance  of  social  science  brings 
us  perceptibly  nearer  to  a  power  of  prediction ;  and, 
as  no  human  being  can  foretell  the  advent  of  the 
next  world-poet,  still  less  foretell  what  his  poem  will 
be  like,  it  would  be  even  more  futile  to  guess  at  the  date 
or  the  contents  of  the  next  great  religious  message. 

If  a  religion  were  simply  a  philosophy,  we  should 
have  some  specious  basis  for  speculation.  Comte, 
for  example,  traces  the  gradual  ebb  of  theological 
modes  of  conception,  which  banishes  the  supernatural 
from  one  sphere  of  knowledge  after  another,  and 
liberates  the  direct  vision  from  the  distorting  haze  of 
superstition.  When  the  stars  no  longer  require  the 
guidance  of  gods,  we  get  a  rational  astronomy ;  and 
by  a  similar  process  we  shall  reach  a  really  scientific 
system  of  sociology  and  ethics,  resting  on  demonstra- 
tion instead  of  assumption,  and  free  from  the  element 


336 


THE  RELIGION   OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


337 


>j 


of  mystery.  But,  as  Comte  again  maintained,  we 
should  still  no  more  have  a  religion  than  we  have  an 
architecture  when  we  understand  the  laws  of  mechanics, 
or  a  music  when  we  understand  the  laws  of  sound. 
Of  Comte's  attempt  to  take  the  next  step  I  need  say 
nothing.  His  religion  has  been  ridiculed,  I  think, 
more  than  enough  ;  but  I  cannot  doubt  that  it  has 
the  fatal  flaw  of  every  attempt  to  construct  by  rule 
and  line  what  can  only  be  done,  if  it  can  be  done  at 
all,  by  the  genial  energy  of  a  creative  imagination. 
The  strange  thing  is  that,  recognising  so  clearly  the 
nature  of  the  task,  he  should  not  have  recognised  his 
own  incapacity  for  succeeding  in  it.  A  religion  is  the 
synthesis  of  a  philosophy  and  a  poetry.  It  is  the 
product  of  a  theory  of  the  universe  working  in  the 
imagination  of  a  people  until  it  projects  itself  into 
vivid  concrete  symbolism.  It  must  have  a  double 
aspect,  corresponding  on  one  side  to  the  conceptions 
which  men  have  actually  framed  of  the  constitution 
of  the  world  in  which  they  live,  and,  on  the  other, 
embodying  those  conceptions  in  a  shape  capable  of 
being  grasped  by  the  imagination  and  of  serving  as  a 
framework  to  the  profound  but  indistinct  emotions 
which  it  suggests.  The  ordinary  theological  anti- 
thesis between  faith  and  reason  corresponds  to  the 
distinction.  A  creed  must  appeal  to  men's  direct 
and  intuitive  perceptions  as  well  as  to  their  logical 
faculties.  It  must  be  capable  of  being  presented 
dogmatically  as  well  as  proved  by  chains  of  syllogisms. 


Most  men,  of  course,  do  not  reason  at  all,  and  accept 
their  religion  as  they  accept  their  science— at  second- 
hand.    The  man  of  science  believes  the  truths  of 
astronomy,  because  they  are  proved  ;   and  the  non- 
scientific  man,   because  he  believes   that  they  are 
provable,  and  has  had  them  directly  presented  to  him 
by  vivid  and  intelligible  pictures.     The  ideal  religion 
would  be  suited,  in  the  same  way,  both  to  the  philo- 
sophic and  the  popular  mind.     Only  in  this  case  the 
condition   is   incomparably  more   difficult    of  fulfil- 
ment.    Even  in  physical  science,  direct  vision  lags 
behind   analysis   and  demonstration ;    and   it    often 
requires  the   highest  imaginative  power  to   see  the 
results  of  a  mathematical  proof,  though  each  step  of 
proof  may  be  fully  understood.     But  to  convert  a  philo- 
sophy into  a  religion,  to  give  to  abstract  speculation 
the  form  and  colouring  which  alone  can  bring  it  within 
reach  of  the  ordinary  understanding,  is  a  task  requiring 
the  loftiest  genius  under  the  most  congenial  influences. 
It  is  this  double  aspect  of  any  vigorous  religion 
which  baffles,  not  only  our  powers  of  prediction,  but 
even  of  conjecture,  as  to  the  future  of  faith.     What 
form  of  belief  will  satisfy  at   once    the   philosophic 
thought  and  the  popular  impulses  of  the  time  ?     How 
is  it  to  attract  at  once  the  thinkers,  whose  sole  aim  is 
the  extension  of  our  narrow  circle  of  intellectual  day- 
light, and  the  poor  and  ignorant,  who  are  moved  only 
by  the  direct  power  of  the    creed  to   grasp    their 
imaginations  and   stimulate   their   emotions  ?    If  it 


fj 


fj 


338 


THE  KELIGION  OF   ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


THE   KELiaiON  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE   MEN 


339 


alienates  one  class,  it  can  only  render  more  chaotic 
the  chaotic  mass  of  struggling  superstition ;  if  it 
alienates  the  other,  it  cannot  spread  beyond  a  pro- 
fessor's lecture-room.  Even  if  we  have  a  decided 
opinion  as  to  the  philosophical  doctrines  which  are 
ultimately  to  prevail,  we  shall  still  be  only  at  the 
threshold  of  the  problem.  How  can  they  be  made 
acceptable  to  the  struggling  masses  of  society?  If 
not  made  acceptable,  how  can  we  be  sure  that  they 
will  not  be  crushed  ?  If  thought  is  to  advance,  we 
say,  this  must  be  its  final  stage.  But  how  do  we 
know  that  the  final  stage  is  at  hand  ?  May  not 
philosophers  once  more  find  that  they  are  losing 
their  hold  upon  their  hearers  ;  that  they  have  gone 
too  fast  and  too  far ;  and  that,  being  in  a  small 
minority,  they  are  likely  to  get  the  worst  of  it  ? 
There  may  be  a  retrograde  movement  in  the  tidal 
wave  which  has  often  advanced  so  fitfully  and 
irregularly.  We  have  reached  the  edge  of  the 
promised  land,  but  who  can  tell  that  the  race  may 
not  be  turned  back  to  wander  for  forty  years  or  forty 
centuries  in  the  wilderness?  The  philosophical 
movement  destroys  the  old  forms  of  emotional 
utterance ;  and,  till  new  forms  have  been  elaborated, 
the  emotions  remain  as  a  disturbing  force.  How  will 
men  satisfy  the  needs  hitherto  met  by  the  various 
forms  of  worship  ?  What  will  be  the  heaven  and  hell 
of  the  future  ?  Will  men  pray  at  all,  and,  if  so,  to 
whom?    How  will  they  express    what    have    been 


called  the  supernatural  dictates  of  the  conscience  ? 
What  will  be  the  precise  meaning  given  to  such  words 
as  holy,  spiritual,  and  divine,  which  have  hitherto 
expressed  some  of  the  profoundest  moods  of  which  we 
are  conscious  ?  Or,  is  it  possible  that  we  shall  simply 
shut  up  our  churches  and  keep  our  museums  and 
theatres ;  and  that  all  the  emotions  which  have 
hitherto  been  the  moving  forces  of  the  greatest 
organisations  will  flow  in  other  channels  without 
producing  any  social  catastrophe  ? 

Theologians  ask  such  questions  to  pronounce  the 
answer  impossible.  They  cannot  conceive  any  answer 
but  their  own  ;  and  calmly  assume  that  the  destruction 
or  radical  transformation  of  the  old  symbols  is  equiva- 
lent to  the  destruction  of  the  things  symbolised,  and 
the  alteration  of  the  human  nature  which  created 
them.  For  my  part,  I  cannot  even  understand  the 
doctrine  that  the  conscience,  for  example,  was  created 
by  a  belief  in  hell,  and  will  perish  when  hell  ceases  to 
be  credible.  It  seems  to  me  clear  that  the  conscience 
created  the  old  hell,  and  will  presumably  create  a  new 
one,  sufficient  for  practical  purposes,  whenever  the 
ancient  mythology  decays.  But  if  it  is  asked.  What 
will  be  the  precise  form  which  is  to  supersede  the 
old  ?  I  can  only  reply,  that  is  the  question  to  be 
solved  by  the  coming  generations  and  the  coming 
men  of  genius.  Nor  can  I,  or  anyone,  tell  how  far 
the  solution  of  the  immediate  future  will  be  a  com- 
promise,  including    many  ancient    elements    or    a 


z  2 


n 


340 


THE   RELIGION   OF  ALL  SENSIBLE   MEN 


definitive  acceptance  of  the  soundest  philosophical 
principles.  The  problem  is  not  one  of  abstract 
reasoning,  but  of  practice.  We  have  to  inquire  how 
an  artistic  form  is  to  be  given  to  the  ancient  chorus 
of  lamentation  and  aspiration  which  has  been  steaming 
up  for  so  many  ages  from  the  race  of  men,  not  how 
we  are  to  formulate  with  scientific  accuracy  the  ac- 
cumulating body  of  ascertained  truth.  We  are  not 
simply  looking  forward  to  the  next  stage  in  the 
evolution  of  a  theory,  but  guessing  what  will  be  the 
resultant  of  a  confused  struggle  of  conflicting  im- 
pulses, whose  success  is  only  affected  indirectly  by 
the  truth  of  the  doctrines  which  they  embody. 

The  rashness  of  any  attempt  to  unravel  the 
mystery  of  the  future  might  be  abundantly  con- 
firmed, if  confirmation  be  necessary,  from  past 
experience.  We  should  perhaps  find  the  best 
guidance  in  any  attempt  at  prophesying  the  future 
of  religion,  from  studying  the  history  of  the  last 
great  revolution  of  faith.  The  analogy  between  the 
present  age  and  that  which  witnessed  the  introduction 
of  Christianity  is  too  striking  to  have  been  missed  by 
very  many  observers.  The  most  superficial  acquaint- 
ance with  the  general  facts  shows  how  close  a  parallel 
might  be  drawn  by  a  competent  historian.  There  are 
none  of  the  striking  manifestations  of  the  present  day 
to  which  it  would  not  be  easy  to  produce  an  analogy, 
though  in  some  respects  on  a  smaller  scale.  Now,  as 
then,  we  can   find  mystical   philosophers   trying   to 


THE   RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN  841 

evolve  a  satisfactory  creed  by  some  process  of  logical 
legerdemain  out  of  theosophical  moonshine;  and 
amiable  and  intelligent  persons  labouring  hard  to 
prove  that  the  old  mythology  could  be  forced  to 
accept  a  rationalistic  interpretation— whether  in 
regard  to  the  inspection  of  entrails  or  prayers  for 
fine  weather ;  and  philosophers  framing  systems  of 
morality  entirely  apart  from  the  ancient  creeds,  and 
sufficiently  satisfactory  to  themselves,  while  hopelessly 
incapable  of  impressing  the  popular  mind ;  and 
politicians,  conscious  that  the  basis  of  social  order 
was  being  sapped  by  the  decay  of  the  faith  in  which 
it  had  arisen,  and  therefore  attempting  the  impossible 
task  of  galvanising  dead  creeds  into  some  semblance 
of  vitality ;  and  strange  superstitions  creeping  out 
of  their  lurking-places,  and  gaining  influence  in  a 
luxurious  society  whose  intelligence  was  an  ineffectual 
safeguard  against  the  most  gi'ovelling  errors ;  and  a 
dogged  adherence  of  formalists  and  conservatives  to 
ancient  ways,  and  much  empty  profession  of  barren 
orthodoxy ;  and,  beneath  all,  a  vague  disquiet,  a 
breaking-up  of  ancient  social  and  natural  bonds,  and 
a  blind  groping  toward  some  more  cosmopolitan  creed 
and  some  deeper  satisfaction  for  the  emotional  needs 
of  mankind.  Yet  there  is  one  thing  which  we  do  not 
see,  and  at  which  we  cannot  guess :  What  sect  is 
analogous  to  the  ancient  Christians  ?  Who  are  the 
Christians  of  the  present  day  ?  Which,  in  all  the 
huddle   of   conflicting   creeds,   is   the   one   which   is 


342 


THE  KELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


343 


^5 


destined  to  emerge  in  triumph?  Will  it  triumph 
because  its  theory  contains  most  truth,  or  because  it 
contains  that  mixture  of  truth  and  error  which  is 
most  congenial  to  the  circumstances  of  the  time  ?  If 
we  could  have  asked  an  ancient  philosopher  for  his 
forecast  of  the  future  during  the  first  century  of  the 
propagation  of  Christianity,  he  would,  we  know,  have 
treated  that  exitiabilis  super stitio  with  contempt,  and 
j^^  pointed  out,  to   his   own   satisfaction,  the  miserable 

-         >^     gullibility  of  its  professors  and  the  inherent  absurdity 
of  the  tenets  which  they  professed.     And  yet  the  creed 
triumphed.     Why  should  not  some  creed  which  to  us 
— whether  Christians  or  infidels— seems  equally  absurd 
have  in  it  the  seeds  of  victory  ?     Nothing  could  have 
seemed  more  revolting  to  the  philosopher   than  the 
doctrine  of  the  atonement  and  of  the  crucified  God. 
We  are  beginning  to  admit  that,  in  a  certain  sense, 
both  the  philosopher  and  the  object  of  his  contempt 
might  be  right.      The  dogma  is  quite  as  incredible 
to  a  modern  thinker  as  to  the  ancient  philosopher. 
Yet  he  may  think  that  it  contained  the  assertion  of  a 
principle — distorted  and  perverted  as   much  as  you 
please— which  the  philosopher  had  left  out  of  account ; 
and   supplied   a   want  which   he   could  not   satisfy, 
because    he    did   not  feel   it.      May  there    not   be 
doctrines,  apparently  too  absurd  for  discussion,  which 
are  spreading  in  obscure  regions  far  below  the  surface 
of  conscious  and  articulate  thought,  and  destined  to 
have  their  day  ? 


If  it  is  not  an  idle  optimism  to  assume  that  super- 
stition is  henceforth  impossible,  I  should  at  least  be 
glad  to  know  distinctly  upon  what  grounds  our 
security  rests.  Is  it  that  we  individually  are  so  much 
wiser  than  our  forefathers  ?  I  do  not  wish  to  under- 
rate modern  progress,  but  surely  there  is  something 
grotesque  in  the  hypothesis  that  the  average  shop- 
keeper or  artisan  of  the  present  day  is  too  clever  to 
believe  in  the  creeds  of  his  forefathers.  I  fancy  that 
no  one  has  yet  ascertained  that  the  brain  of  to-day  is 
more  capacious  than  the  brains  of  the  contemporaries 
of  CsBsar  or  St.  Paul.  Or,  if  I  fancy  for  a  moment 
that  minds  trained  by  modern  schools  are  above  the 
reach  of  sophistry,  the  doctrine  becomes  very  un- 
tenable when  I  take  a  journey,  say,  in  the  Metropolitan 
Eailway  from  Kensington  to  Blackfriars.  Take  a 
cursory  glance  on  such  an  occasion  at  any  of  your 
companions  :  look  at  that  respectable  grocer  studying 
the  *  Daily  Telegraph ' ;  or  the  intelligent  citizen  ab- 
sorbed in  the  records  of  the  great  Mr.  Peace,  prince 
of  burglars  and  murderers.  Can  you  pierce  his  armour 
of  solid  indifference  by  arguments  about  the  principle 
of  evolution  and  the  survival  of  the  fittest?  Will 
the  teaching  of  Comte,  or  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  or 
Hegel,  be  as  savoury  to  him  as  the  rhetoric  of  his 
dissenting  oracle  ?  Is  he  likely  to  see  through 
fallacies  which  imposed  upon  Augustine  or  Aquinas  ? 
Macaulay  prophesied  that  the  Catholic  Church  would 
endure  for  ever,  on  the  ground  that,  if  Sir  Thomas  More 


. 


844  THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 

could  believe  in  the  nonsense  of  transubstantiation, 
men  might  always  believe   in    it.      If  some  modern 
intellects  are  in  advance  of  More,  the  great  bulk  are 
still  far   behind   him.      To  found  any  hopes  of  an 
emancipation  from  superstition  upon  a  belief  in  the 
elevation   of    the    average    intellectual  standard    is, 
indeed,   to   build   upon  a  flimsy   foundation.     I  am 
quite  unable  to  see  that  the  cultivation  of  the  masses 
has   reached    a    point    at    which— I    will    not    say 
Catholicism,  but — paganism   is  made  impossible   by 
the  intelligence  of  mankind.    If  even  witchcraft  has 
become  obsolete,  it  is  not  because  its  absurdity  has 
been  demonstrated,  but  because  men's   imagination 
has  been  directed  elsewhere.    Indeed,  the  phenomenon 
of  a  survival  of  superstition  in  the  upper  classes  is  too 
common  to  excite  astonishment.     A  mind  which  can 
be  edified  by  the  tricks  of  a  '  medium '  is  saved,  not 
by  intrinsic  ability,  but  by  the  accidents  of  time  and 
place,  from  sharing  the  grossest  superstitions  of  Zulus 
or  Esquimaux. 

Nor,  indeed,  if  we  inquire  into  the  average  state 
of  mind,  even  of  people  who  profess  to  discuss  philo- 
sophical problems,  is  the  result  much  more  en- 
couraging. Discussions  of  the  first  principles  of 
religious  belief  have  lately  become  common  in  popular 
magazines.  People  argue  about  materialism  or 
idealism,  about  the  existence  of  God  and  a  soul,  and 
another  world,  with  a  freedom  which  is  a  remarkable 
symptom  in  many  ways,  and  to   which  I  certainly 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  ]VIEN  345 

have  no  objection.     I  do  not  think  for  one  moment 
that  such  inquiries  should  be  restricted  to  a  class  of 
specialists,  or   that   anybody  should   be   discouraged 
from  frank  revelations  of   his   state  of  mind:   they 
are  often  very  interesting.     But  neither  is  it  possible 
to  doubt,  when  reading  such  discussions,  that  most 
people  think  it  an  ample  qualification  for  the  most 
difficult  problems  to  be  tolerably  familiar  with  a  few 
technical  words.     The  result  is,  that  most  disputants 
go  into  a  modern  line  of  battle  armed  with  antiquated 
bows  and  arrows.     They  placidly   confute  positions 
which  were  abandoned   by  their  adversaries  two   or 
three  centuries  ago.     They  argue  about  free-will,  for 
example,  or  materialism — I  will  not  say,  as  if  they 
had   never  read   the  latest  discussions   upon   those 
ancient  controversies,  but  as   if  they  had  been  pre- 
decessors of  Jonathan  Edwards  and  Berkeley.     Or,  in 
a    rather    different    direction,   it    would   be    almost 
amusing,  if  it  were  not  rather  irritating,  to  note  the 
impossibility  of   impressing   upon   the  ordinary  dis- 
putant the  fact  that  a   man  may  disbelieve  in  hell 
without  disbelieving  in  the  value  of  all  morality.    He 
can  see  no  difference  between  a  denial  that  murderers 
will  be  tormented  for  ever  and  an  assertion  that  murder 
is  unobjectionable.      The   most   amiable  and  candid 
critics  will  inform  you  that  to  deny  the  supernatural 
character  of  morality  is  to  deny  its  existence ;  and  that, 
in  denying  the  existence  of  supernatural  sanctions,  you 
are  not  only  unconsciously  removing  a  useful  safeguard 


346  THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 

of  morality,  but  consciously  and  explicitly  denying 
that  there  is  any  difference  between  right  and  wrong. 
But  I  need  not  gather  illustrations  of  a  fact  which 
no  serious  thinker  will  deny,  that  much  argumentation 
on  such  matters  rests  on  simple  misunderstanding ; 
and  it  is  inevitable  that  it  should  be  so :  for  religious 
development  is  a  complex  process,  of  which  the  logical 
aspect  is  only  one,  and,  it  may  be,  a  subordinate  factor. 
The  question   of  its  importance  in  determining  the 
whole  must  depend  upon  the  relation   between   the 
select  few  who  are  accessible  to  reason  and  the  vast 
majority  who  are  profoundly  indifferent  to  truths  not 
immediately  applicable  to  practical  purposes.    What 
hold  do  the  thinkers  possess  upon  the  masses  ?    How 
does  a  change  of  scientific  or  philosophical  conceptions 
become  operative  upon    popular    religious    beliefs? 
The  philosophers  may   be  compared  to  the  brain  of 
the  so-called  social  organism  ;  but  then  the  organism 
is  one  of  a  very  low  type.    It  has  innumerable  nervous 
centres,  possessed  of  a  certain  subordinate  activity, 
and  only  indirectly  stimulated  and  co-ordinated  by 
the  central  organ.      Impulses    may  continue  to  be 
propagated  upon  which  the  brain  has  little  influence  ; 
though  it  may   be  that  there  is  sufficient  unity  to 
make  the  co-operation  of  the  brain  necessary  to  con- 
tinuous and  energetic  vitality. 

Philosophers  may  condemn  the  old  creed  as  effete  ; 
men  of  sense  may  simply  shrug  their  shoulders  when 
a  serious   attempt  is  made  to  apply  its  teaching  to 


THE  RELiaiON  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


347 


contravene   their   palpable    interests;    but  they   are 
equally  contemptuous,  and  not  without  some  prima 
facie  justification,  when  the  attempt  is  made  to  sup- 
plant it  by   more   satisfactory  doctrine.      They  feel 
instinctively    that    philosophy    has    not    found    the 
necessary  leverage  to  move  the  world.     It  has  not 
the   power   to  put  any  real   stress   upon   the  ordi- 
nary mass  of  mankind.     No  creed  can  be  said  to  have 
a  genuine  vitality  which  is  not  one  of  the  forces  to  be 
taken  into  account  in  the  actual,  everyday  conduct  of 
life,  which  cannot  make  itself  heard,  if  not  actually 
obeyed,  in  the  blind  struggles  of  passion  which  stii- 
the  vast  bulk  of  the  social  organism.     The  man  of 
sense  can  give  reasons  enough  for  doubting  whether 
the  thinking  part  of  his  fellows  represents  any  such 
genuine  force.     There  is   no  want  of  ominous  sym- 
ptoms of  profound  movements  slowly  evolving  them- 
selves in  the  subterranean  strata  of  society — to  which 
scarcely  a   gleam  penetrates   from   the  polite  upper 
world  of  civilisation  and  plausible  philosophy.     We 
may  listen,  if  we  will,  to  stifled  rumblings  significant 
of  inarticulate    discontent,    gradually    accumulating 
like   explosive   gases   in   confined   caverns,  till  some 
sudden  convulsion  may  rend  the  whole  existing  fabric 
into  chaotic  fragments.     Society  sometimes  seems  to 
resemble    Milton's     *  small     night-foundering    skiff ' 
moored  to  the  scaly  rind  of  Leviathan.     If  the  huge 
dumb  monster  fairly  rouses  himself,  can  we  hope  to 
put  the  hook  of  philosophy  in  his  nostrils,  or  send 


't/. 


II? 


I'l 


1 


348 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


him  to  sleep  with  judicious  opiates  of  sociology  and 
political  economy,  and  demonstrations  of  the  general 
fitness  of  things?  I  have  lately  read  lamentations 
over  the  supposed  incompatibility  between  democracy 
and  Free-trade  principles.  Scientific  expositions  of 
the  mischief  done  by  Protection  are  likely  to  be 
thrown  away,  it  is  urged,  upon  the  illiterate  rulers  of 
the  future.  It  sounds  probable  enough  ;  and  to  me 
the  only  surprising  thing  seems  to  be  the  agreeable 
opinion  that  people  were  ever  really  persuaded  by  the 
arguments  of  Adam  Smith.  Free-Trade,  I  imagine, 
triumphed  in  England  mainly  because  the  people  who 
wanted  bread  cheap  were  stronger  than  the  people 
who  wanted  it  dear.  The  twaddle  so  often  talked 
about  the  great  *  law  of  supply  and  demand  '  is  enough 
to  show  the  hopeless  illogicality  of  even  pretentious 
advocates  of  economical  orthodoxy.  Toleration, 
again,  has  become  a  popular  name  in  politics ;  and 
I  sincerely  hope  that  it  is  being  slowly  drilled  into 
people's  minds.  Yet  it  would  be  hard  to  prove  that  it 
really  rests  upon  any  stronger  basis  than  that  of 
general  indifference.  We  don't  burn  people  for  not 
believing  what  we  don't  believe  ourselves,  and  so  far 
we  are  right ;  but  is  it  quite  plain  that,  if  the  world 
were  again  agi'eed  in  believing  anything,  it  would 
refrain  from  enforcing  it  by  the  old  physical  argu 
ments  ?  When  struggles  between  rival  classes  are 
developed,  involving  deeper  issues  than  those  of  tariffs 
— when  Lazarus  and  Dives  come,  if  they  ever  do  come, 


THE  EELiaiON   OF  ALL  SENSIBLE   MEN  349 


to  a  downright  tussle— I  cannot  feel  certain  that 
philosophers  will  be  allowed  to  arbitrate.  They  may 
give  a  watchword  here  and  there  ;  they  may  influence 
some  of  the  commanding  intellects,  and  so  indirectly 
affect  the  contest ;  but  I  fear  that  their  best  arguments 
may  be  as  ineffectual  as  the  trumpet-blast  of  modern 
times  to  the  destruction  of  a  city  wall. 

The  improbability  that  ancient  creeds  should 
simply  revive  must,  therefore,  depend  upon  other 
conditions  than  the  increase  of  the  average  intelli- 
gence. It  seems,  it  is  true,  to  be  a  law  that  there 
can  be  no  resurrection  of  decaying  mythologies. 
They  cease,  after  a  time,  to  stimulate  the  imagina- 
tion, and  are  no  longer  the  spontaneous  growth  of 
the  intellectual  and  social  forces  of  the  day.  No 
conscious  process  of  rehabilitation  can,  then,  give 
them  real  vitality.  The  more  elaborate  the  attempt 
to  revive,  the  more  painfully  dead  and  mechanical  is 
the  result.  The  new  impulses  can  no  more  be  forced 
into  the  old  channels  than  made  to  conform  to  the 
cut-and-dried  theories  of  innovators.  In  one  case,  it 
is  attempted  to  make  a  river  flow  in  its  old  bed  when 
the  whole  configuration  of  a  continent  is  altered ;  in 
the  other,  to  force  it  into  a  neat  rectangular  canal 
defined  by  matliematical  rule  and  measure.  To  ex- 
plain fully  how  and  why  creeds  perish  and  are 
renewed  would  be  to  give  a  complete  answer  to  the 
most  perplexing  problems  of  social  science.  Yet  we 
may  admit  the  negative  conclusion  that  it  is  rarely  a 


ll 


350 


THE  RELIGION   OF  ALL   SENSIBLE   MEN 


process  of  simple  and  continuous  advance.  It  is  not 
a  case  in  which  the  greater  minds  can  form  their  own 
conclusions,  and  impose  them  directly  upon  the  vulgar. 
The  so-called  leader  is  as  much  a  follower,  and  guides 
by  sharing  the  popular  impulse.  But  neither  could 
the  mass  advance  at  all  without  its  leaders.  The 
man  of  genius  cannot  simply  dictate,  but  he  may 
insinuate  some  element  of  advanced  thought.  There 
is  a  reciprocity,  a  continual  give  and  take,  in  which 
the  conquering  creed  is  to  some  extent  permeated  and 
coloured  by  the  higher  elements  of  thought,  though 
it  undergoes  some  transformation  in  the  process. 

It  is  natural  that  men  who  realise  this  difficulty 
should  attempt  to  soften  the  transition  by  some 
dexterous  process  of  conciliation,  which  may  allow 
the  old  to  melt  gradually  into  the  new,  and  give  on 
one  side  free  play  to  the  expansion  of  philosophical 
thought,  while  on  the  other  it  leaves  the  mass  in 
possession  of  their  ancient  symbols.  Why  should 
not  the  new  thoughts  leaven  the  ancient  mass  without 
setting  up  any  convulsive  action  ?  To  avoid  revolu- 
tion is  the  great  aim  of  sensible  men,  for  they  see 
how  vast  is  the  cost  and  how  doubtful  the  gain,  and 
if  danger  can  be  avoided  by  a  judicious  reticence  on 
the  part  of  philosophers,  by  allowing  speculation  to 
filtrate  gradually  through  the  pores  of  the  old  creed, 
is  it  not  folly  to  attempt  to  force  upon  the  average 
mass  doctrines  which  they  can  never  understand,  and 
which  will  only  cause  odium   to   their   expounders  ? 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN  351 

You  cannot  impose  your  new  creed  upon  mankind, 
even  if  you  had  a  definite  creed.     Why  not  encourage 
them  to  glide  into  it  quietly  and  unconsciously  ?    I 
will  not  here  insist  upon  the  difficulty  that  the  pro- 
posal covers  simple  insincerity,  and  that  what  would 
be  very  convenient,  if  it  were  a  spontaneous  or  un- 
conscious process,  involves  an  uncomfortable  approach 
to  deliberate    lying    and    equivocation    when    it    is 
deliberately  adopted  from  motives  of  policy.     But  the 
truth  seems  to  be  that  the  whole  process  is  inappro- 
priate to  the  conditions  of  the  time.     It  amounts  to 
proposing  that  we  should  try  to  annihilate  a  danger 
by  ignoring  it.      As  a  matter  of  fact,   an  ancient 
creed  ends  by  working  itself  so  thoroughly  into  alli- 
ance with  the  conservative  forces  of  society  that  it  is 
no  longer  possible  to  separate  the  two  interests.     Its 
influence  is  rigorously  dependent   upon   the   strong 
conviction  of  the  governing  classes  that  the  old  creed 
is  bound  up  with  the  old  order.     The  supported  creed, 
which  is  popular  with  all  the  old  women  in  the  world, 
certainly  a  most  estimable  and   venerable   class,   is 
also  bound  to  support  their  prejudices.     Their  great 
desire— natural  to  their    age  and    sex— is  to  keep 
things  as  they  are.     The  old   belief  is   valuable  in 
their  eyes  because  (though  not  solely  because)  it  is 
the  symbol  of  all  opposition  to  the   subversive  and 
revolutionary  forces.     If  you  could  prove  that  Chris- 
tianity really  meant  to  aid,  not  denounce  Communism, 
the  effect  might  be  to  destroy  the  faith  of  this  class 


Ai 


1, 


A< 


352 


THE   RELIGION   OF  ALL   SENSIBLE   MEN 


of  adherents.  The  alliance  between  the  various  con- 
servative forces  of  the  world  is  far  too  intimate  and 
close,  and  the  hostility  between  conservatives  and 
revolutionists  far  too  bitter  and  deadly,  to  allow  of 
any  conciliation  by  dexterous  manipulation  of  dogmas. 
If  there  is  no  great  social  struggle  underlying  the 
religious  movement,  it  may  no  doubt  be  easier  than 
people  suppose  to  reconcile  the  purely  intellectual 
differences,  and  to  make  the  old  dogmas  mean  any- 
thing, or  nothing.  But  if  the  revolt  against  the 
doctrine  is  chiefly  a  symptom  of  a  more  profound  and 
internecine  struggle  beneath  the  surface,  the  proposal 
to  cover  the  divergence  by  terms  capable  of  being 
used  by  both  parties  is  doomed  to  inevitable  failure. 
The  proposal  to  take  the  wind  out  of  the  sails  of 
agitators — to  prove  that  the  Christian  is  the  true 
socialist  and  the  true  reformer — is  very  plausible, 
and  may  succeed  so  long  as  the  agitation  is  super- 
ficial ;  but,  when  passions  are  really  inflamed  and 
the  contest  has  become  bitter,  each  party  feels  that  it 
is  a  juggle.  The  hatred  does  not  depend  upon  mere 
questions  of  speculative  thought,  and,  so  far  from 
welcoming  any  mode  of  softening  the  differences  of 
creed,  they  would  be  glad  to  accentuate  them,  and  to 
provide  fresh  modes  of  insulting  each  other's  feelings. 
In  such  a  case  the  philosophic  warfare  is  but  the 
superficial  symptom  of  a  deeper  social  struggle,  and 
the  fate  of  the  creed  is  bound  up  with  the  fate  of  the 
organisation   by  which  it  is   defended.     Nor  can  we 


THE   RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN  353 

suppose  that  the  alliance  is  merely  accidental.     The 
objections  to  a  creed  which  weigh  with  a  philosopher 
are  not  those,  as  I  have  suggested,  which  weigh  with 
or   perversely  affect   the   masses.     A    creed   is    not 
destroyed  immediately  by  attacks  of  a  philosophical 
kind,   though    they   may  give  a   fatal    blow  to   its 
vitality.     There  has  long  been  plenty  of  latent  scep- 
ticism;  it  is   only  when    whole    classes   come  into 
existence,  ready  for  revolt  upon  other  than  specula- 
tive   grounds,    that    the    spark    could    produce    an 
explosion.     The   prevalence  of    disbelief  among  the 
masses  must  be  accounted  for  by  the  various  causes 
which   have    undermined    the    whole    of    European 
society    with    the    raw    materials    of    revolutionary 
movement.     But   we  may  also  assume  that,  unable 
as  the  masses  may  be  to  appreciate  the  more  purely 
intellectual  grounds  of  dissatisfaction,  they  have  a 
dumb  instinct  which  makes  them  more  or  less  pre- 
pared  to  accept    the    conclusions    of    the    abstract 
reasoner.     Christianity  itself  was  doubtless  the  pro- 
duct of  an  analogous  spirit  of  social  discontent.     But 
in  its  origin  it  proposed  a  remedy  no  longer  appro- 
priate to  modern  wants  ;  and  greatly  as  it  has  been 
developed,  and   radically  as   its   modern   supporters 
may  differ  from  its  original  apostles,  it  has  not  been 
developed  in  the  required  direction.     The  old  doctrine, 
for  example,  makes   poverty  sacred   and   inevitable, 
instead  of  regarding  it  as  an  evil  to  be  extirpated; 
it  places   all   our   hopes   in   a   world  differing  from 

A  A 


354 


THE   RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


this  in  all  its  conditions,  and  to  be  reached  only 
through  a  supernatural  catastrophe,  instead  of  hoping 
everything  from  gradual  development,  and  a  recog- 
nition that  the  world  can  only  be  conquered  by 
accepting  its  conditions  as  unalterable.  This  is  but 
one  aspect  of  a  divergence  between  two  modes  of 
thought,  which  is  too  deeply  impressed  in  their  very 
structure  to  be  overlooked  or  surmounted,  and  which 
corresi)onds,  not  merely  to  a  speculative  difference, 
but  to  a  new  direction  impressed  upon  human 
aspirations,  and  upon  a  change  of  fundamental  con- 
ceptions which  has  been  thoroughly  worked  into  the 
emotions  as  well  as  the  beliefs  of  mankind.  Though 
people  may  not  think  more  clearly  than  of  old,  they 
have  slowly  assimilated  certain  results  of  the  pro- 
gressive development  of  thought,  and  society  has 
acquired  a  different  structure,  which  makes  the 
ancient  teaching  inapplicable. 

To  state  these  obvious  considerations  in  the 
briefest  terms  is  enough  to  show  the  complexity  of 
the  problem,  and  to  raise  a  strong  presumption 
against  any  hasty  solution.  To  develop  them  com- 
pletely would  require  a  knowledge  of  the  actual 
conditions  of  modern  society  such  as.  no  one,  perhaps, 
possesses  in  the  necessary  degree,  and  a  power  of 
impartial  judgment  upon  the  most  exciting  questions 
which  is  as  rare  as  the  requisite  intellectual  grasp. 
To  infer  from  them  with  any  confidence  what  will  be 
the  outlines  of  the  creed  of  the  future  would  require 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE   IVIEN  355 

the  insight  of  the  rarest  genius  to  be  superadded  to 
the  other  qualifications  of  a  competent  observer.    To 
my  mind,  therefore,  it  is  simply  absurd  for  any  man 
to  answer  with  the  slightest  confidence  the  challenge  of 
the  hasty  inquirer,  What  is  to  be  the  religion  of  the 
future  ?    I  have  not  the  slightest  idea.     I  at  least  am 
perfectly  certain  of  my  own  ignorance,  and  I  have  a 
strong  impression  that  almost  everyone  else  is  equally 
ignorant.     I  can  see,  as  everyone  else  can  see,  that  a 
vast  social  and  intellectual  transformation  is  taking 
place— arid  taking  place,  probably,  with  more  rapidity 
now  than  at  almost  any  historical  period.     I  can  dimly 
guess  at  some  of  the  main  characteristics  of  the  process. 
I  can  discover  some  conditions,  both  of  the  social  and 
the  speculative  kind,  which  will  probably  influence  the 
result.     I  cannot  doubt  that  some  ancient  doctrines 
have  lost  their  vitality,  and  that  some  new  beliefs 
must  be  recognised  by  one  who  would  influence  the 
minds  of  the  coming  generations.     I  cannot  believe 
in  the  simple  resurrection  of  effete  religious  ideas  ; 
nor,  on  the  other  hand,  do  I  believe  that  the  ideas 
which  still  have  life  have  as  yet  been  effectually  em- 
bodied in  any  system   which  professes  to  take  the 
place  of  the  old.     In  saying  this,  I  take  myself  to  be 
simply  expressing  the  conviction  of  most  men  who 
think   upon   such   topics   at  all;  though    it    is,  for 
obvious  reasons,  natural  for  many  writers  to  affect  to 
themselves  and  others  more  confidence  than  they  feel 
at  the  bottom  of  their  hearts,  both  in  the  complete- 

A   A   2 


356 


THE   RELIGION   OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


ness  and  in  the  approaching  victory  of  their  own 
creed.'  It  is  as  well  to  get  rid  of  that  as  of  other 
affectations,  and  to  admit  frankly  that  the  future  is 
shrouded  in  impenetrable  darkness.  I  cannot  say 
what  will  be  the  outcome  of  this  vast  and  chaotic 
fermentation  of  thought.  Doubtless  all  the  elements 
which  it  contains  will  be  somehow  represented  in  the 
next  crystallisation  of  opinion  ;  but  I  envy,  or  rather 
I  do  not  envy,  the  confidence  of  any  man  who  takes 
upon  himself  to  define  its  precise  character. 

The  argument  of  the  more  hopeful  would  be  that, 
after  all,  modern  science  is  what  people  call  a  '  great 
fact.'     The  existence  of  a  vast  body   of    definitively 
established  truths,  forming  an  organised  and  coherent 
system,  giving  proofs  of  its   vitality   by    continuous 
growth,  and  of  its  ability  by  innumerable  applications 
to  our  daily  wants,  is  not  only  an  important  element 
in  the  question,  but  it  is  the  most  conspicuous  point 
of  difference  between  the  purely  intellectual  conditions 
of  the  contemporary  evolution  and  that  which  resulted 
in  the  triumph  of  Christianity.     Here  is   the  fixed 
fulcrum,  an  unassailable   nucleus   of   definite  belief, 
round  which  all  other   beliefs  must   crystallise.      It 
supplies  a  ground,  intelligible  in  some  relations  to  the 
ordinary  mind,  upon  which  the  philosopher  may  base 
his  claims  to  respect.     Whatever  system  would  really 
prevail   must    be    capable    of    assimilating    modern 
scientific  theories  ;  for  a  direct   assault  is  hopeless, 
and  to  ignore  science  is  impossible.     The  enormous 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


357 


apologetic  literature  destined  to  reconcile  faith  and 
reason  is  a  sufficient  proof  that  the  reconciliation  is  a 
necessity  for  the  old  faith — and  that  it  is  an  impossi- 
bility. The  ablest  thinkers  are  always  taking  up  the 
impossible  problem  afresh  ;  and  the  emptiest  charlatan 
tries  to  surround  himself  with  some  halo  of  scientific 
twaddle.  Science,  moreover,  touches  men's  interests 
at  so  many  points  that  it  has  the  key  of  the  position. 
The  common-sense  of  mankind,  as  well  as  their  lower 
passions,  would  crush  any  open  attack  upon  the 
tangible  material  results  of  modern  scientific  pro- 
gress. Science  means  steam-engines,  telegraphy,  and 
machinery,  and,  whether  the  reflection  be  consolatory 
or  the  reverse,  we  may  be  fully  confident  that  all  the 
power  of  all  the  priests  and  all  the  philosophers  in  the 
world  would  be  as  idle  wind  if  directed  against  these 
palpable  daily  conveniences.  And,  undoubtedly,  this 
consideration  is  enough  to  imply  that  scientific 
thought  is  a  force  to  be  taken  into  account.  There 
are  directions  in  which  the  incompatibility  between 
its  results  and  those  of  the  old  creeds  is  felt  by 
ordinary  minds.  We  still  pray  for  a  fine  harvest ; 
but  we  really  consult  the  barometer,  and  believe  more 
in  the  prophecies  of  the  meteorologist  than  in  an  answer 
to  our  prayers  ;  Te  Deums  for  victories  excite  more 
ridicule  than  sympathy ;  and  we  encounter  the 
cholera  by  improved  systems  of  drainage,  without 
attributing  much  value  to  fasting  and  processions. 
In  other  words,  the  old  belief  in  the  supernatural  is 


358  THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 

SO  far  extinct  that  it  could  not  be  restored  without 
encountering  some  of  the  most  vigorous  beliefs  of  the 
time.     Science  need,  so  far,  fear  no  direct  antagonism. 
But  it  is  easy  for  the  theologian  to  withdraw  ostensibly 
from  the  positions  which  are  obviously  untenable.     A 
believer  in  transubstantiation  has  no  more   scruples 
than  his  neighbour  in  using  the  telegraph,  and  the 
most  orthodox  doctrines  about  the  Trinity  imply  no 
physiological  heresy.     No  one  can  doubt  that  Newton's 
discoveries  have  gi-eatly  modified  the  old  conception 
of  the  universe  implied  in  Christian  mythology  ;  and 
yet,  after  a  time,  they  have  been  accepted  and  are 
enforced  in  all  sincerity  by  the  most  orthodox  theo- 
logians.    We  see,  indeed,  ingenious  mathematicians 
at  the  present   day  trying  to   force  the  latest  dis- 
coveries in  physics  into  the  service  of  old-fashioned 
theology ;  and  the  operation  is  performed  so  skilfully 
as  to  pass  for  a  genuine  argument  with  the  intelligent 
public. 

The  danger  is,  not  that  scientific  results  will  be 
attacked,  but  it  is  conceivable,  at  least,  that  the 
scientific  spirit  may  be  emasculated.  You  may 
destroy  a  limb  as  certainly,  though  not  as  quickly, 
by  a  ligature  as  by  an  amputation.  The  line  of  argu- 
ment is  ready  at  hand.  You  have  only  to  object  to 
the  abuse  instead  of  the  use  of  the  scientific  spirit ; 
to  allow  people  to  invent  as  many  telegraphs  as  they 
please,  so  long  as  they  don't  draw  unpleasant  con- 
clusions  from  scientific    discoveries.     You    may  de- 


THE   RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE   MEN 


359 


f! 


nounce  specialists  who  insist  upon  using  physiological 
facts  as  weapons  against  theology,  whereas  nobody 
has  a  right  to  mix  theology  and  science  except  in 
support  of  arguments  from  final  causes.  The  positivist 
warns  us  against  the  indulgence  of  an  idle  curiosity, 
and  proposes  to  discourage  all  researches  which  have 
no  definite  aim  of  immediate  utility.  The  senti- 
mentalist appeals  from  the  head  to  the  heart,  and 
pronounces  a  love  of  truth  to  be  immoral  whenever  it 
hurts  his  feelings.  The  Catholic,  of  course,  attacks 
the  all-corroding  energy  of  the  intellect,  and  tries  to 
enslave  Darwinism  as  his  precursors  enslaved  Aristotle. 
Though  the  common- sense  of  mankind  may  regi-et 
such  assaults  when  they  come  into  contact  with 
useful  results,  it  may  not  be  so  clear  about  the 
methods  to  which  the  results  are  owing.  The  bound- 
less curiosity  of  the  scientific  mind,  its  resolution  to 
test  every  dogma — whatever  the  authority  on  which 
it  reposes — to  sift  and  re-sift  all  established  beliefs,  are 
undoubtedly  troublesome  and  inconvenient  to  the 
indolent,  that  is,  to  the  vast  majority.  It  can  scarcely 
be  regarded  as  certain  that  some  form  of  creed  may 
not  become  popular  which  would  tend  to  stifle  thought 
and  sap  the  sources  of  its  energy.  A  political  empire 
may  be  ruined  from  internal  weakness  as  well  as  by 
external  assaults  ;  and  the  empire  of  science  is  of 
such  a  nature  that,  unless  it  extends,  it  must  decline. 
It  is  not  impossible,  perhaps,  though  I  certainly  do 
not  think  it  to  be  probable,  that  the  creed   of  the 


1^'^ 


'  1 

t  'I 


860 


THE   RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


future  may  flatter  the  natural  weakness  of  mankind  by 
gradually  diminishing  the  interest  in  scientific  inquiry. 
Popular  writers  are  fond  of  describing  Utopias  in 
which  man's  power  over  Nature  has  indefinitely 
increased,  and  machinery  been  applied  to  hitherto 
unimaginable  results.  An  imaginative  writer  might, 
I  fancy,  employ  himself  to  equally  good  purpose  in 
describing  a  state  of  things  in  which  some  mechanical 
discoveries  should  remain,  but  serve  only  as  a 
memorial  of  a  distant  past,  their  principles  forgotten, 
their  use  only  known  by  tradition;  in  which  the 
power  of  discovery  should  have  perished,  and  a  steam- 
engine  be  the  object  of  superstitious  reverence — like 
a  gun  in  the  hands  of  a  savage — as  a  mysterious 
survival  from  the  days  of  the  ancient  demi-gods.  To 
bring  about  such  a  result,  it  would  only  be  necessary 
so  far  to  emasculate  the  intellect  that  men  should 
be  reluctant  to  encounter  the  labour  necessary  for 
extending  the  borders  of  science.  There  are  abun- 
dant precedents  for  decay  as  well  as  for  progress,  and 
regions  enough  in  which  authority  has  succeeded  in 
shifting  the  impulse  to  active  thought.  Why  should 
we  regard  such  an  eclipse  of  intellectual  energy  as 
henceforth  impossible  ? 

I  need  go  no  further.  When  we  think  of  such 
things — of  the  vast  complexity  of  the  processes  by 
which  new  religions  evolve  themselves,  of  the  small 
influence  of  purely  intellectual  considerations  with 
the  vast  bulk  of  mankind,  of  the  enormous  improba- 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN  361 

-bility  of  any   speedy  extirpation   of    error,   of    the 
difficulty  of    impressing    men's    imaginations,   even 
when  you   have  convinced    their   reasons — we    can 
hardly  doubt,  it  seems  to  me,  that  the  sensible  man 
has  a  very  strong  case  indeed.     Why  should  we  be 
so  impatient  of  error?      The  enormous  majority  of 
the  race  has,  on  any  hypothesis,  been  plunged  in 
superstitions  of  various  kinds,  and,  on  the  whole,  it 
has  found  that  it  could  thrive  and  be  decently  happy 
and  contented  in  its  ignorance.     Science  declines  to 
accept  catastrophes;   and   no   catastrophe  would   be 
more  startling  than  a  sudden  dispersal  of  the  mists 
that  have  obscured  the  human  intelligence  for  so  many 
ages.     If  they  grow  a  little  thinner  in  our  time,  we 
may  well   be  content ;  but  is  it  not  childish   to  be 
impatient  about  the  rate  of  development  of  these 
vast  secular  processes  ?    Why  be  in  such  a  hurry  to 
*  change  the  errors  of  the  Church  of  Kome  for  those 
of  the  Church   of  the  Future '  ?     The  generations 
come  and  go,  and  the  external  form  of  their  creeds 
changes  rapidly  enough ;  but  the  substance  changes 
little.     Philosophers  wrangle  over  the  old  doubts,  and 
even  old  pagan  superstitions  survive  in  but  slight 
modifications  in  the  midst  of  Christian  populations. 
The  study  of  '  sociology '  shows  at  least— if  it  shows 
nothing  else — that   even   the  most  trifling  customs 
survive  vast    periods    of    apparently  revolutionary 
change.    Why  should  we  expect  to  transform  in  a 


862 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN  363 


day  or  in  a  century  the  fundamental  beliefs  of  man- 
kind?     - 

It  is  certainly  well  to  moderate  our  anticipations. 
I  feel,  indeed,  the  heartiest  respect  for  the  enthusiasts 
who  show  the  hopefulness  of  boyhood  in  proclaiming 
truth  in  season  and  out  of  season,  and  accept  the 
reproaches  of  the  world  as  gratifying  testimony  of 
their  fidelity  to  truth.  Undoubtedly  they  may  fre- 
quently err — the  man  must  be  fortunate,  indeed,  who 
has  never  to  reproach  himself  for  such  errors — by 
forgetting  the  duty  of  courtesy  and  tenderness  for 
the  weak  and  the  stupid.  Eeformers  are  often  too 
anxious  to  tell  fools  of  their  folly,  and  to  reproach 
unduly  those  who  are  behind  the  times.  It  is 
difficult  to  draw  the  line  accurately  between  a  justi- 
fiable reticence  and  a  mean  equivocation ;  it  is  easy 
to  confound  the  obvious  duty  of  telling  no  lies  with 
the  more  questionable  practice  of  proclaiming,  at  all 
hazards,  every  conclusion  as  soon  as  you  have  reached 
it.  But  it  is  needless  to  insist  upon  a  point  involving 
some  difficult  casuistry.  The  orthodox  may  be  safely 
trusted  to  give  all  the  necessary  emphasis  to  that 
aspect  of  the  question  which  is  least  favourable  to 
full  utterance  of  thought.  That  class,  in  particular, 
which  is  accustomed  to  argue  by  a  sneer  is  most 
emphatic  upon  the  wickedness  of  their  opponents  in 
using  the  same  weapons.  I  simply  take  note  of  the 
fact,  which  all  will  admit,  that  the  employment  of 
such  poisoned  arrows  should  be  forbidden  on  ^,11  sides ; 


but  I  confess  that,  to  me,  the  most  serious  danger  does 
not  appear  to  be  that  an  excessive  love  of  truth  and 
plainness  of  speech  will  ever  become  unduly  pre- 
valent. 

Buoyancy  of  spirit  and  confidence  in  the  approach- 
ing decease  of  the  devil  are,  indeed,  only  too  likely  to 
be  checked   by  the  considerations  to  which  I   have 
referred.     I  cannot,  for  my  part,  understand  how  the 
frame  of  mind  which  is  eager  for  proselytes  should 
survive  very  early  youth.     I  would  not  conceal  my 
own  views,  but  neither  could  I  feel  anxious  to  thrust 
them  upon  others;     and   that   for  the  very   simple 
reason  that  conversion  appears  to  me  to  be  an   ab- 
surdity.    You  cannot  change  a  man's  thoughts  about 
things  as  you  can  change  the  books  in  his  library. 
The  mind  is   not   a    box  which   can   have  opinions 
inserted  and  extracted  at  pleasure.     No  belief  is  good 
for  anything  which  is  not  part  of  an  organic  growth 
and  the  natural  product  of  a  man's  mental  develop- 
ment under  the   various   conditions   in  which  he  is 
placed.     To  promote  his  intellectual  activity,  to  en- 
courage him  to  think,  and  to  put  him  in  the  way  of 
thinking  rightly,  is  a  plain  duty  ;  but  to  try  to  insert 
ready-made  opinions  into  his  mind  by  dint  of  autho- 
rity is  to  contradict  the  fundamental  principles  of  free 
inquiry.      Persons  who  believe  in  miraculous  inter- 
vention, and   the  magical  efficacy  of  special  beliefs, 
may  consistently  compass  sea  and  land  to  make  one 
proselyte  ;  they  may  scatter  tracts,  hoping  that  the 


364 


THE  KELIGION   OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


sight  of  a  text  will  upset  the  convictions  of  a  lifetime, 
or,  as  some  fanatics  are  said  to  do,  baptize  the  dying 
infants  of  the  heathen  to  give  them  a  passport  to 
heaven.  But  the  man  who  counts  upon  no  super- 
natural assistance  can  only  endeavom*  to  help  his 
fellow-creature  by  stimulating  any  faint  spark  of 
intellectual  activity — a  task  which  is  generally  difficult 
enough  for  any  human  power.  Nor,  again,  is  it 
possible  to  overlook  or  deny  the  fact  that  there  is 
simply  no  answer  to  the  question  which  will  deter- 
mine, however  illogically,  the  choice  of  many  most 
amiable  and  excellent  people.  If  a  man  will  not 
abandon  a  religion  till  he  has  another  to  put  in  its 
place,  we  must  confess  that  his  demand  cannot  be 
met.  The  creed  of  the  future,  whatever  it  may  be, 
exists  only  in  germ.  You  cannot  give  to  a  believer 
anything  in  place  of  his  cult,  of  the  sacred  symbols 
which  reflect  his  emotions,  of  the  whole  system  of 
disciplined  and  organised  modes  of  worship,  of  prayers, 
of  communion  with  his  fellows,  which  to  him  are  the 
great  attraction  of  his  religion.  You  cannot  even  tell 
him  what  system  is  likely  to  replace  them  hereafter, 
or  whether  human  nature  is  so  constituted  that  it 
will  be  able  simply  to  drop  the  old  without  replacing 
it  by  anything  directly  analogous.  And,  therefore, 
you  must  admit  that  for  the  present  a  man  who 
would  abandon  the  old  doctrines  is  compelled  to  stand 
alone.  He  must  find  sufficient  comfort  in  the  con- 
sciousness   that    he  is   dealing    honestly   with    hia 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


365 


intellect ;  he  must  be  able  to  dispense  with  the  old 
consolations  of  heaven  and  hell ;  he  must  be  content 
to  admit  explicitly  that  the  ancient  secret  has  not 
been  revealed,  and  to  hold  that  people  will  be  able  to 
get  on  somehow  or  other,  even  if  the  most  ignorant 
and  stupid  cease  to  consider  it  a  solemn  duty  to  dog- 
matise with  the  utmost  confidence  upon  matters  of 
which  the  wisest  know  absolutely  nothing,  and  never 
expect  to  know  anything.  Undoubtedly,  this  is  to 
accept  a  position  from  which  many  people  will  shrink ; 
and  it  is  pleasanter  to  the  ordinary  mind  to  reject  it 
summarily  as  untenable,  or  to  run  up  some  temporary 
refuge  of  fine  phrases,  and  try  to  believe  in  its  per- 
manence. I  only  say  that  I  do  not  see  how  an 
honest  dissenter  from  the  orthodox  opinions  can  act 
otherwise. 

How  we  are  to  act  in  regard  to  individuals  is  a 
problem  which  may  admit  of  discussion,  and  in 
regard  to  which  I  can  only  express  the  belief  that 
such  problems  generally  solve  themselves  pretty 
easily  for  people  who  are  true  to  themselves  and 
gentle  to  their  neighbours.  The  duty  of  those  who 
take  any  part  in  forming  what  is  called  public  opinion 
is  less  complex.  It  resolves  itself  into  a  simple  ac- 
ceptance of  the  undeniable  facts.  It  is  impossible  to 
overlook  the  distinction  between  philosophical  specu- 
lation and  the  propagation  of  a  new  creed.  If  a  man 
is  not  a  St.  Paul,  or  even  a  St.  John  the  Baptist,  he 
should  not  take  the  tone  of  an  apostle  or  a  prophet. 


I  I 


366 


THE  RELiaiON   OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


THE  RELIGION  OF  ALL  SENSIBLE  MEN 


367 


He  may  fully  believe  in  the  soundness  of  the  doctrines 
which  he  preaches,   and   believe  in   their  ultimate 
victory ;  but  he  may  equally  realise  the  undeniable 
fact  that  he  is  at  most  only  contributing  to  lay  the 
philosophical  basis  of  a  religion,  not  propagating  a 
fully-developed   religion.     The   part  is   strictly  sub- 
ordinate, though  it  may  be  essential.     The  utmost 
that  he  can  do  is  to  help  to  clear  the  air  from  effete 
superstitions,  to  extricate  moral  truths  from  the  mis- 
leading associations  with  which  they  have  been  en- 
tangled, and  to  encourage,  as  far  as  in  him  lies,  the 
spread  of  truths  which  may  find  embodiment  in  any 
fresh  developments  of  thought.     The  vast  and  enor- 
mously  complex   processes   which   are   taking  place 
cannot   be   governed   and    regulated  by   any   single 
mind.    A  man  who  fancies  that  he  can  dictate  a 
complete  system  to  the  world  only  shows  that  he  is 
arrogant  to  the  verge  of  insanity.     Some  little  may 
be   done   by   any   honest    thinker — by   anyone   who 
really  aims  at  advancing  inquiry,  instead  of  trying  to 
throw  dust  in  people's  eyes.     He  may  help,  according 
to  the  measure  of  his  powers,  to  stimulate  the  im- 
pulses  which   are  on  the  side  of  free  thought,  and 
which  are  the  best  guarantee  for  a  healthy  instead  of 
a  morbid  development.     It  is  not   merely  the  right 
but  the  duty  of  everyone  competent  to  the  task  to  do 
what  in  him  lies  to  strengthen  the  fitful  and  uncertain 
influence   of  a   sound   intellect  upon   the  vast  and 
intricate  jumble  of  conflicting  opinions  in  the  world  at 


large.  The  man  of  sense  will  probably  condenm  him,  if 
good-sense  is  taken  to  mean  an  enlightened  regard  for 
our  own  private  interest ;  for  certainly  such  advocacy  is 
often  very  unwelcome  to  the  world.  But  if  good-sense 
means  chiefly  a  sound  estimate  of  a  man's  real  position 
and  talents,  and  a  judicious  application  of  his  talents 
to  honourable  ends,  a  sensible  man  will  surely  approve 
of  every  vigorous  exposition — not  given  in  an  irri- 
tating and  insulting  spirit — of  the  truths  which  must 
be  the  groundwork  of  a  satisfactory  religion ;  for  the 
degree  in  which  that  mysterious  creed  of  the  future  is 
founded  upon  tenable  and  verifiable  philosophy  must 
be  the  measure  of  its  success  in  laying  down  per- 
manent principles  for  the  regulation  of  human  con- 
duct. Modest  expectations  and  calm  estimates  of  a 
man's  real  value  to  the  world  are  not  productive  of 
any  high  degree  of  enthusiasm ;  but,  perhaps,  in  the 
long  run,  they  are  useful  qualities. 


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